Yaaburnee
by River Edge
Summary: Avatars aren't meant to belong – that's as much as Aang can fathom. [Toph/Aang]
1. 1

_Ya'aburnee_ {n.} _"you_ _bury_ _me."_  
 _A declaration of one's hope that they'll die_ _before_ _another person, because of how difficult it would be to live_ _without_ _them._

* * *

 **1.**

* * *

Aang remembers very clearly. It's the kind of conversation he isn't able to forget. The words were pressed gently, fiercely into the core of his soul. And when Zuko confessed, there was this fatal guilt in his eyes which broke Aang's heart. To love, to _be_ loved – of _course_ Aang isn't going to be angry, or upset, but overjoyed.

Lately, the love Zuko has felt for Katara has been obvious.

They grew up. Aang and Katara, so embodied in their work, simply saw less of each other. The birth of Republic City is frantically approaching. To have time for each other – it was impossible. Although Aang is the adventurous sort, Katara can't sit still. She's everywhere, searching for potential Benders to teach, passing on her wisdom, discovering more about the beauty of manipulating water.

When they were children, young teenagers, he and Katara were inseparable. As a child, it is devastatingly easy to feel attached to another human being. The worry of loyalty, time, intimacy – they're just myths. At the age of twenty-three, Aang understands how their love waded. What he feels for her now is still just as intense, but calmer. A mutual feeling they share. He had to let her go, let her live without him trailing behind.

Zuko was always there, from the start. Aang noticed him. Aang noticed the looks he gave her, the rare smiles, that kind of sweeping agony in his chest, desperate to burst with the overwhelming amount he felt for this girl. After all, Aang had been there too. Loving Katara is soft, warm, and like _drowning_. Kicking and shoving the thick water, gasping, panicking, _needing_ oxygen, and yet constantly being swept into the surf.

So, when Zuko had to stop their game of Pai Sho, Aang looked at him.

There was a brief pause while Zuko tried to find the correct words, and just as he held his breath to speak, Aang raised his hand. And, he smiles: 'I know,' he says. 'Don't worry, Zuko. I've known maybe before you knew.'

For a second, Zuko allows himself to feel relieved. 'But – what about you?'

'I still love her. I don't think I'll ever stop loving her. I–' Aang lowers his shoulders, and ponders whether he shouldn't reveal too much. He glances at Zuko, who watches him with a mixture of sympathy and understanding. An apology dangerously approaching his lips. 'I want my friends to be happy. If you make Katara happy, and if she makes you happy, then that makes me happy.'

'You're not mad?'

'Zuko, what would be the point? I would gain nothing. I may have feelings for her, but we've realised we just – _aren't_. I'm not right for her. Maybe I'm not right for anybody. I don't know if Avatars are supposed to fall in love, or marry somebody, or have children. I think I just wasn't supposed to be with her. Whatever it is, that isn't your fault, so, no, I'm not mad. I'm pleased, actually! To see you two move on together, it's a good thing.'

It will always astonish Zuko how a person like Aang exists.

Living his whole life scorned and criticised, Zuko doesn't know how to react. Aang isn't angry. He isn't upset. He is _happy_ for him. And that is exactly the kind of person Aang is: simply loving. His best, and yet most fatal fault. An emotional creature, too emotional, incapable of managing them; and, so, therefore, he just hides.

Zuko isn't a fool. To watch Katara walk away with another man – nobody with a heart wouldn't feel _something_.

So he waits, patiently – waits for Aang to change his mind. Speak. Point his finger at him, and yell, and scream, and cry, and how _fucking_ dare you do this to me? But Aang smiles again, sincere as ever, and continues their game of Pai Sho.

Of course, the memory stays. Aang remembers every syllable shared between them. How Zuko looked at him. How for the remainder of their game, he was able to ignore what the problem was. Because, yes, he _is_ happy, so happy for his two best friends. Because who is Aang kidding? They should have been together. It was always Zuko.

Avatars aren't meant to belong – that's as much as Aang can fathom.

* * *

On the rare occasion, a raid is necessary in order to not just locate a criminal, but to ensure they're behind bars. A man of justice, Aang is willing to help. The police are fans of the Avatar, and upon hearing he will be lending a hand, excitement flutters between each of them. However, to their disgruntlement, the Avatar only requires one police officer to assist him on this mission, and his request is specific.

Nobody _dares_ make a remark towards Toph Beifong. The Earthbender has achieved a significant rank already at her young age, and they know better than to antagonise her. Besides, she's not exactly over the moon that Aang chose her either. In fact, not really to Aang's surprise, he is met with a scowl.

'Really?'

'For old time's sake,' he grins.

He swears he hears her mutter _pathetic_ , before reluctantly leaving alongside him. Neither have seen each other in several months – which isn't anything unusual. Toph prefers her own company. So he can't help but feel extra happy to be around her. Although Toph is severely skilled in wearing a mask of complete disinterestedness and exaggerated grumpiness, he has a hunch she, somewhere in that steel heart of hers, feels the same.

The plan is simple. The man they're after is a chi-blocker, who has hidden himself away further north. While his exact location isn't known, Toph and Aang are pretty adept in discovering another man's whereabouts. Earthbending has its uses. For Toph especially, it is ridiculously easy to identify somebody by the sound of their feet, and walking pattern. She can use her seismic senses for miles, too, which is an added bonus.

Wisely, he keeps talk brief until they're there. The land is vast, mainly grass and hillsides, which they use to their advantage. From where they are, they won't be spotted, and it allows Toph to sense their target's whereabouts. All it takes now is to wait, and, sometimes, waiting can be a long time. Aang makes himself comfortable.

There is a cool breeze in the air, and he shudders a little. Glancing at Toph, he wonders how much warmth her clothes keep in. The uniform provided is smart, flexible, and yet the slight armour owes as decent protection. It still throws him at times to witness her dressed this way. As a child, Toph was very laid back on her appearance, mostly due to her eagerness to be the exact opposite of what her parents raised her to be.

Now, Toph has grown out of that behaviour, far more focussed on her work than anything else. Aang can't help but find her terribly similar to Katara in that regard.

'How have you been anyway?'

Toph sighs loudly. 'I really am not in the mood for small-talk, sweetpea.'

Aang pulls a face at the name. 'Right. Well, I'm _fine_ , thank you for asking.'

'Trying to care,' Toph pauses, 'Nah, just can't hack it, sorry.'

He has missed her sarcasm. 'By the way, I was meaning to tell you this later on, but I have a proposition for you.'

'Oh, yeah?'

'As you know, Republic City is already forming well. I've visited a few times – actually, I was hoping you might visit too. Obviously I need the city to be protected, from Benders and non-Benders, and I don't know anybody else who would do the job better than you.' He swallows, now beginning to feel nervous. Toph hasn't reacted at all. In fact, he's not sure if she's stopped listening. 'I want you to be my Chief of Police.'

'Ah,' she mutters, 'Y'know, you could've started with _that_ , Twinkletoes.'

'Will you? Honestly, I can't think of anybody else.'

Toph laughs quietly. 'What if I refused, then? You'd be fucked.'

'True.' She nearly hates him for not denying it. 'Come on, Toph. I know you want this opportunity. You _love_ your job, and I think you would love it even more if you were given sole responsibility over your officers. You're an efficient leader, you're powerful, you're intelligent, and you're also–'

'Look, as flattered as I am, you can quit the babbling – it's annoying.'

'Oh. Sorry.'

Inhaling contentedly, Toph leans back, 'All right. I'll visit.'

Aang immediately beams ear-to-ear. 'You will? Thank you! Oh, you're going to love it there, Toph. And the _views_!' He stops short. '... well, not the _views_ , I guess…'

'This is excruciating. Aang, I've already told you that I'll come along. So drop it, okay?'

'Okay.'

It falls silent again. To the point of Aang having to twiddle his thumbs. Maybe this is why Toph was so reluctant to join him. She knew he would start rambling on about every thought in his mind, until she eventually told him to just _stop_. On a raid, too. And raids demand patience, quick intuitive, and, most importantly, quiet.

The wind drops when night occurs. Toph remains focussed on the job, waiting. Aang hasn't let down his guard either, but he is mildly distracted by the stars. It was something Katara and he used to do when they were younger: stargaze. Figure out what shapes the stars were creating together. If they meant anything.

He lies down into the grass, hands behind his head, and loses himself in it all. Is this what Zuko would want to do with Katara as well? Watch the stars? Aang frowns. To be honest, he's never considered Zuko the romantic type, but Zuko has never once failed to surprise him. Really, the man is soft at heart, so maybe he does enjoy watching the stars as well.

There's a sharp sting. Aang feels it deeply. Something instant, jabbing at him. The sort of pain which oozes from his heart, across his lungs, to the rest of his body. What makes him want to keel over and wail out.

The sort of hurt he endured when he discovered everybody he ever loved was dead.

'Aang?'

'Yeah?' No answer. Aang turns his head, 'What is it?'

'Nothing. I was just checking you hadn't fallen asleep.'

'I haven't,' Aang replies. 'I'm watching the stars.' Again, no answer. 'Want to join?'

'Do I really need to state the obvious?'

Aang chuckles. 'You don't have to watch the stars just to be with me, Toph. I meant I–I just… Won't you come and lie with me?'

'I'm working.'

'So am I.'

'Pft, _yeah_.'

Aang shrugs. 'All right, then. I won't push you.'

One minute passes where they're silent again. He can't really focus on the stars anymore, more concerned about the fact Toph won't come over to join him, and maybe, _just maybe_ , he insulted her. Sometimes, it is difficult to tell.

Then, to his astonishment, Toph says, 'I know,' and walks over to where he lays.

A smile reaches his lips when she lies beside him, a hand resting on her stomach, the other on the ground. 'Thanks,' he says. Sighing, he faces the sky again, and almost instinctively, points towards an array of stars, 'Doesn't that look like a Dragon Moose?'

'For _fuck's_ sake.'

'I know, sorry, I – _sorry_.'

She shakes her head briefly. 'It's okay. If anything, it's kinda nice.'

'What do you mean?'

'Eh,' she shrugs. 'Sometimes, my blindness is all people see, so… they tend to _avoid_ me, in the hopes they can avoid, well–' she gestures to her face, '– _this_. It doesn't happen as much anymore, but when I first started out as an officer – I dunno, I guess it's hard for people to understand. The fact you forget is just refreshing.'

Rolling onto his stomach, Aang props himself on one elbow. 'I'm sorry. I – I guess I forget too much. I know you don't want to make a big deal of it, but I suppose it can get frustrating.'

'Not with you,' she allows. Aang blinks. 'Can we change the topic?'

'Sure.'

'Why'd she dump you?'

Aang needs a moment to comprehend what she just asked. His hand falls, and he's stunned. 'How did you know?'

'I know,' Toph mutters. 'You're an open book, Twinkletoes. Especially with me.'

'Heh.' He pulls at the grass. 'Katara and I had grown distant somewhat. We're still best friends. But…' Aang pauses. '... I had to let her go. I don't think I deserved her in the end. She was – I know how this sounds, but she was my dream.' He blinks, raises a brow, pulls at another strand of grass. Does everything he can to avoid Toph's expression. 'I really… I _really_ loved her. But I don't know if Avatars are supposed to feel–' _so much_.

'You do feel a lot.'

'Oh.'

Toph sits upright. Aang thinks she's lost interest, but he realises she's carefully trying to pick the right words. 'Give yourself some credit, Twinkletoes. You _were_ kids back then. And, as far as I know, I don't think it's a bad thing for you to feel emotions. Eh, whatever. Emotions are a human thing. We've all got them, just some of us feel them more intensely than others. That doesn't make you any less deserving of being – uh, _loved_ , I guess.'

'At the time, she was all I wanted.'

'Is that still the case?'

'... I can't let it. Thinking about her, just her face – it _hurts_.'

'Don't take this the wrong way, but if the thought of her causes you pain, then maybe parting ways for a while wasn't a bad idea.'

Aang considers this. He raises himself, looks at her. 'You're right.' Even so, he doesn't feel any better. 'I told Zuko I was happy for them, and I _am_. I'm really happy, but–'

'Bullshit,' Toph cuts through. 'The whole time I've been with you, you've not been happy at all. At least spare what dignity you've got left, and admit it.'

'Toph, it's not that easy.'

'Yes, it is.'

'Is it? So, when was the last time you were in love?' Aang nearly hits himself. Of all things to say, why _that_? 'I'm sorry, I–'

'Hey, don't beat yourself up. You've never asked, so I've never told.'

'... have you been in love…?'

Toph snorts, and stands to her feet. 'This is boring.' She walks past him, and Aang is frozen in place, uncertain what to think or feel. 'Anyway, I think it's time to get back to work. Our friend is not too far away now.' Slightly relieved they have something else to focus on, Aang shoots to his feet, and joins her. 'Let's make this quick, Twinkletoes. I'll capture him. You just do what you're good at, and look pretty. Or whatever it is you're supposed to be doing.'

'Very funny,' Aang sighs. 'By the way, we're twenty-three now, Toph. Do you think you can stop with the nicknames?'

'Afraid not.'

* * *

'Hang on–' Toph tightens the metal a little too viciously, causing their target to yell out in pain, '–aren't you technically _one hundred_ and twenty three?'

' _Easy_ , Toph.' Once the metal has been loosened, he replies: 'That makes it worse, actually.'

Once their target is safely handcuffed, on the ground, and ready to be transferred to a prison cell, Aang has to admit: that was swiftly done. He and Toph have always been a good team, but he can't recall the last time they worked so perfectly together. It didn't take them long to take down their target at all. With a skilled Earthbender, and the Avatar himself, it was easy.

He places a hand on her shoulder. 'You're right: I _am_ that old. So… you don't still think that, maybe, perhaps, _possibly_ , you could stop calling me Twinkletoes?'

'That's just not gonna happen. I'd say I'm sorry, but I would be lying.'

'Very well.' He grabs the target, and hoists him to his feet. 'Shouldn't be too long of a journey back. Are you coming?'

'Right behind ya. _Twinkletoes_.'

He pouts at her grin. But, as he drags their target along, Toph sticking to her word, and following – there's something familiar in his stomach. A warmth he's felt before, but a while ago. A familiar sensation to what home once felt like.

While it has mostly been in silence, his time with Toph has been a relief.

* * *

The Avatar is welcomed back with open arms. The target taken away. Toph won't admit they did a good job, nor will she compliment him like everybody else, but she doesn't demand he leave immediately. And that's something.

All that is left to do is the paperwork. Being blind, Toph can only vocally state what occurred on the field, and it gives Aang an idea. There must be a way for Toph to read and write. Or, at least, read. So, in what little amount of time he has left, he finds a chunk of metal, and using Waterbending, indents a few letters into the metal.

When he's finished, he places the metal onto her desk. 'Try this.'

'For what?'

'Just try.' Unconvinced, Toph slowly pulls the metal towards her. At first, she presses her palm across, feeling the indented letters beneath. That's when she slowly trails her fingertips over each letter. 'I know you can't read, or figure out what these letters means, but I can teach you – if you like. It might help in your career.'

As if the metal has sent an electric shock through her, Toph retreats from the metal. She pushes it back to him. 'You're wasting your time. Anyway, don't you have somewhere to be now? It's late.' She frowns. 'And, _please_ , don't tell me you've got nowhere else to be.'

'No, don't worry,' he chuckles. 'I'll go. I just wanted to say good bye.'

'Okay. Then say it.'

He tries not to feel the harshness of her tone. And, inevitably, fails. Rounding the desk, he places a hand on her shoulder, and suddenly, time stills. It's the worst kind of feeling which makes Toph so tense, she's almost certain her lungs have caved in.

Maybe Aang feels it too, she isn't sure; she doesn't want to know.

Then he squeezes, tenderly, affectionately – as if to plead, _I'll stay if you ask_.

'Good bye,' he says.

'See ya.'

It feels like an eternity until she can't hear his footsteps anymore. And his absence couldn't be any louder.


	2. 2

**2.**

* * *

'How did you get in here, without being spotted?'

'Oh, easy: your security is pretty awful, so it didn't take much effort.'

Fire Lord Zuko tries his utmost hardest not to roll his eyes. It should not have been possible for Toph to not only enter the Palace unnoticed, but also the throne room. He watches her, unamused, as she makes herself _very_ comfortable on _his_ throne. The fact none of the guards spotted her puts him at unease. Clearly, he needs a change in staff.

Approaching her, he places his hands behind his back, and says, 'I gather you're here for something?'

'What? Am I not allowed to meet my best friend in the whole wide world once every now and again?'

Zuko groans, and pinches the bridge of his nose. 'It's just as well that you _are_ my friend. Do you know the penalty for trespassing the Palace?'

'I honestly couldn't care less.'

'Forget it. Can you get off the throne please?'

'Why?' Toph shrugs, 'I find it quite comfy actually.'

'Because you're not the Fire Lord. That's why.'

'True. I'm even _better_ than some Fire Lord.' She grins. 'Actually, I'm not here for you. I was hoping Katara might be nearby.'

Zuko's irritation dampens. He folds his arms, and looks away. 'I take it you've spoken to Aang, then?'

'Oh, yeah, of course.'

'Has he… Is he all right?'

'Eh, ish.' Toph stands to her feet. 'So, is she here?'

Although Toph doesn't strike him as the type to stir tension, Zuko can't help but feel uncertain about why she is actually here. Even so, he knows better than to not answer her question. He nods and turns on his heel, guiding Toph out of the throne room. 'She's been absent for a few weeks actually, and only arrived this morning.'

He leads her out of the Palace, and into the enormous garden. Due to lack of sight, Toph isn't able to appreciate how gorgeous the garden actually is, littered with all variations of flowers; trees as high as the sky, flocking with nature. Since Zuko took control of the Fire Nation, he has made a huge impact; and the best kind.

The atmosphere in the Fire Nation is calmer. Less friction. All kinds of Benders are welcome, as well as non-Benders. It's a huge step from what the Fire Nation once was. In an attempt to disassociate itself from the crimes the Fire Nation committed during the war, the uniforms have been changed. They're far less aggressive for one.

However, not all Nations feel particularly forgiving. Zuko still struggles to form truces with certain tribes and families. Uncle Iroh is a decent advisor though, informing him to simply be patient. They will come around eventually once they realise he means well. Forgiveness is a gift, and a gift which must be earned. After what the Fire Nation did, it isn't out of the ordinary for certain people to feel less obliging to create peace with them.

Katara isn't too far away, busy jotting down notes and illustrations. Waterbending techniques are carefully being drawn down onto a scroll. The only person who would spend their free time working amongst the flowers would be Katara. 'Here she is,' Zuko says. Toph notices him hesitate, and she wonders if he's about to approach Katara as well. Instead, he retreats without a word.

As Toph comes over, Katara tears her gaze away from her illustrations, and smiles upon recognising her.

'Is that you, Toph?'

'Well, unless you're delusional or blind, I think that's obvious.'

Katara stands, smiling wider. 'It's _definitely_ you.' To Toph's surprise, Katara doesn't hesitate to pull her into an embrace. 'I've missed you.'

'Mhmm,' Toph does everything she can to _not_ return the embrace. Although, she has to admit, Katara does give decent cuddles. 'You wanna let go anytime soon?'

'What are you doing here?' Katara asks, releasing her.

'I wanted to hear your side of things.'

Katara immediately understands what Toph is implying. 'So, Aang has seen you?'

'Look, personally I don't give a shit. And it's none of my business. But with him sulking around me like this, it's kinda getting annoying, so I was hoping you could fill me in on what's happened.'

'He was sulking?' Katara says softly. 'He's upset.'

'You're surprised.'

'No, of course not. We were together for a long time, and… really, the idea of breaking up was only a last resort.' She exhales slowly, then returns to sitting in the grass. Toph tilts her head, a little confused. There's more to the story than Katara is letting on. And, _yes_ , Toph doesn't care. However, Katara _is_ her friend.

She sits beside her. Inhaling sharply (because discussing feelings is a _painfully slow_ topic), she tries to keep the conversation flowing. 'He tells me you've been away a lot.'

'I know. I _have_. So has he, Toph. It was difficult at first. We both wanted to do different things.' She pauses, then confesses: 'After a while, we wanted to be with different people.' _We_. Toph decides to let that pass. 'Eventually, he suggested…' Katara abandons the rest of the sentence. 'I know he's hurt, and I was going to see him, but I don't know if he wants to see me. Not yet. But, if he's confided in you, then I'm pleased.'

'Are you?'

'Believe it or not, you're a good listener. I probably would've done the same.'

'Lucky me.'

'Toph.'

'Yeah, I know. So, you and Zuko, eh?'

Katara doesn't answer quickly enough. She hesitates, and Toph realises nobody has actually asked her before. Because the whole time, it's been about Aang, and his feelings, and what he wants, and how the world will feel so sorry for the Avatar and his broken heart.

More than anybody else, Katara is the most selfless. Aang came first. Even after they separated.

'I wrote a letter for him. I didn't know whether to send it or not, but–'

'Let me,' Toph offers. 'I'll give it to him.'

'Thank you.' Katara retrieves a small envelope from her pocket, and passes it over. 'I'm returning to the South Pole soon, but if you and Aang – I don't know, if you want to of course – would like to visit sometime, that'd be nice.'

Toph takes care in pocketing the letter. She smiles crookedly: 'Like I'm gonna deny the chance to finally have my life changing experience with Zuko.' There's a pause, and then, as much as it'll make her cringe later on, Toph pats her shoulder. Once. 'Try and quit this whole guilt thing. It doesn't look good on you, Katara.'

'I'll try. Thanks.' She smiles at her. Slipping her hand away, Toph stands. 'Won't you come back soon?'

It isn't very often Toph hears that. Walking away, she says idly, 'If there's anybody I'd make the effort to come back for, it'd be you, I suppose.'

From Toph, Katara couldn't expect a greater compliment.

 **.**

 **.**

 **.**

Autumn is severe this year round. The cold is close to intolerable, yet after spending many months in the South Pole, Aang has endured worse. It gets darker faster; but the sight of the moon is rewarding. Aang has developed a hobby, if not a habit, of enjoying the night sky.

Perhaps that's because it's one of few times in his life when he's allowed to stop, and truly appreciate what surrounds him.

The small apartment he's currently staying in allows him privacy. Due to his fame, the Avatar is well recognised wherever he goes, so it's a relief to no longer be preyed on. As a child, he quite liked the popularity he was gaining. However as he's aged, he's begun to find it rather claustrophobic. The kind of suffocation which makes him want to flee to the Eastern Air Temple, as abandoned as it is. Where only ghosts play as company.

Stripping down to his brown trousers, Aang closes the curtains, washes his face, and prepares himself some of Uncle Iroh's fine tea. He flings his orange shawls across a chair, and readies himself into a state of calm, preparing for meditation. That is until he hears an unexpected knock at the door. Before he even has time to open it, his visitor strolls inside.

'Got you something,' Toph announces, shoving the letter into his hands.

'Um,' Aang begins to open it. 'Thanks?'

'It's from Katara.'

Aang stiffens. Toph ignores him. Instead, she follows the scent of tea, and helps herself to Aang's mug. It's hot, just been poured, and it tastes strongly of peppermint. She can hear him open the envelope, smooth out the letter. To her relief, he doesn't feel the need to read the letter out loud.

But as she lowers the mug, she wishes she couldn't hear just how heavy his heartbeat has become. He's anxious, panicking, and the emotions sweeping through him resonate to the floor. Travelling to where she stands, up her spine, and so _vividly_ , it's enough to nearly make her panic too. The letter mustn't be very long. He finishes after two minutes.

Folds the letter. Sighs. 'That's where you went today, then?'

'What?'

'To see Katara. I came looking for you.'

'Well, that was stupid. Didn't you have anything better to do?'

Aang ignores her. 'How is she?'

'Fine.' Toph shrugs. 'I guess she could be worse.'

'How do you mean?'

'You're not the only one making drama out of this breakup, Twinkletoes. You should talk to her. Preferably face-to-face. I only offered to give you that letter, because the fact you two aren't speaking to each other is fucking dumb.'

Aang raises his brows. 'I can't blame you for being brutally honest, then.'

'I've come to like you both, so just do me the favour of patching things up before it's too late.'

'I will – I plan to, Toph. And you're right.' He nods. 'But I need you to be a little more patient. Sometimes, in order to heal, it's best to be apart.'

'Whatever,' Toph mutters. 'I'm off. Starting early tomorrow.'

'Has something come up?'

'Something always comes up. More idiots to lock up.' She turns, and begins to approach the door. 'Apparently this lot have taken lives – which will make the job interesting.'

At the mention of murder, Aang grows concerned, and grabs her arm before she can leave. 'Please tell me you're not going about this alone?'

'Tsk, as much as I wish I could, that isn't permissible.' She yanks out of his grip.

'I want to help.'

Toph _knew_ he would do this. 'You'll just get in my way.'

'I'm sorry,' he says, and Toph doubts it, 'But I'm not risking it. The more help you have, the better. Besides, there's no harm in having the Avatar on your side.' He smiles. 'If you have a problem with that, Toph, then that's too bad.'

'Don't expect me to act grateful.'

'Trust me, I learnt not to a long time ago,' he teases.

 **.**

 **.**

 **.**

It isn't like last time. Last time mainly consisted of waiting. Now, there's the promise of violence, and Aang wonders if that is what keeps him on edge. Violence has always been a challenge – after all, it is everything he goes against. What he thought he had to depend on in order to defeat Ozai. Back then, he had been so young, truly believing – hoping – he wouldn't have to hurt anybody, ever again. Surely violence isn't the task of the Avatar.

The building looks abandoned, something taken out of a scary book; the walls are torn, paint scraped away, doors hanging from their hinges, windows shattered. The group of Benders they're searching for occupy this building, and the plan is to take them all in, preferably alive. Aang doesn't know the full details of what crimes they've committed. At the moment, he's not all too concerned about that fact.

He stays close to Toph, convincing himself he only wants to stay close to her because she knows what she's doing. Because they've fought beside each other before, and he trusts her. But it has been a long time since they've truly done anything this dangerous.

He wants her close, so he can keep an eye on her. It's something he won't ever dare inform her about – she would take it as an insult, and punish him for being ridiculous. The two of them, alongside three other officers, enter the building quietly, and establish where their targets are. Aang and Toph split from the group, agreeing to home in on several targets located on the left side of the building. At this point, stealth is necessary.

Aang doesn't say a word. He follows Toph up a staircase, round a corner, and then up another staircase. Old, broken pictures hang on the walls, almost haunting. Aang readies himself. He can already feel air dancing between his fingers, urgent to burst from his palms. As they approach the second floor, Toph suddenly stops him.

He looks at her, confused, and then listens. Aang can hear muffled voices nearby, but it's not that which bothers him – somehow, their presence has been noticed, and Toph can hear footsteps coming closer. Instead of retreating, she walks forward, turns to one of the doors. Aang watches, wide eyed, while she manipulates a metal cable attached to her uniform, and forcefully Bends it straight into the wooden door.

Wood splinters everywhere. Aang can hear yells, the sound of flesh being torn, hurried footsteps. He rushes forward, but Toph has already entered the room. The cable returns to her, and she uses it to trip over a Bender; another has started to produce water from his palms, ready to blast it in her direction. As Toph tears the cable away, disabling her target, she can hear the water – and would have easily defended herself if Aang didn't hurry over.

The impact of water on water is enough to knock the Bender over. Aang traps him down, capturing him in a cage of ice. He turns, three more Benders frantically bursting their element towards him and Toph. One of them is a Firebender, and the heat of his flames only catches Toph off guard momentarily. In a building, her Earthbending is at a disadvantage, but it doesn't matter. After all, she invented Metalbending and, to her pleasure, there's plenty of metal to manipulate around her.

Aang watches her take down two Benders at once. She uses the metal hinges of the door, and shoots them forward, like knives. They cut deeply, oozing blood, and hitting bones. Toph manages to disable one of them, and as he loses balance, she cuts the cable around his ankles. He falls heavily, smacking his head against the floor.

'Behind you,' she says.

Aang ducks in time before he's hit with fire. _Idiot_ , he thinks. It's one thing to get distracted while at work, and it's another to get distracted by Toph Beifong. Flushing a bright red, Aang performs a spinning side kick, air gushing from his body, and throwing the target back. The fire is extinguished. Aang produces air from swift arm movements, a performance he's done on many occasions, and mastered over the years.

He manages to dizzy his target, trapping him. The air lifts him from the floor, and the height alone is to knock him unconscious. Aang intends to use his Bending against the remaining target. He swivels around on his heel, already about to attack, but Toph has it under control. The metal cable wraps around his wrists, and she yanks him forward. The target yelps, crashing onto his stomach. Struggling, he forces himself onto his knees.

What happens next even takes Toph by surprise. The Bender is strong enough to fall back, and free his wrists, snapping the cable apart. The cable rebounds, shooting towards Aang and Toph. Toph dodges out of the way before the metal can slice her. Aang isn't as agile – unusually. The metal cable is hot. Close to that of a blade's edge, and the damage it creates is startling. Aang is even thrown back from the impact. Blood freely pools from the wound across his cheek.

Toph doesn't have time to show concern. She can hear the sound of Water bending, liquid travelling around her feet. Her seismic senses can detect metal nearby, and before her target can attack, she manipulates the metal to fold in on itself, making it heavier and thicker. Then, Toph forces it towards the target, hitting him over the head.

Suddenly a powerful burst of wind is felt from behind, nearly toppling her over. Aang is the final blow, causing the target to be thrown painfully into the wall, inevitably breaking bone. He crumples to the floor.

Assured they've caught them all, Toph spares what little time she has left, and goes over to Aang. She doesn't do sympathy. She doesn't do gentle. She isn't Katara, and Aang gasps when Toph yanks him by the collar, and shoves him onto his feet. Blood trickles down his face, dripping to the floor. She can't see the damage. Thankfully.

'That was my fault,' Aang says, before Toph can scold him.

She exhales shakily. Aang knows she's angry at him. But she's not just angry he let himself get attacked. She's angry that he got attacked _at all_ , because Aang isn't usually careless. He was distracted. He wasn't paying attention, and if he can't pay attention, then he would have put the rest of them in jeopardy. This mission would have failed.

'Help me carry these sacks of shit downstairs.'

And that's it. She doesn't say a word afterwards.

Still bleeding, and knowing he won't receive any sympathy whatsoever, Aang does as he's told. The whole while, he avoids her expression, avoids talking to her – what happened just then, what he felt, he doesn't ever want her to find out.

Because he knows it's forbidden, that it's dangerous and he _can't_ do this.

 **.**

 **.**

 **.**

There isn't an infection. But there will be a scar, and Aang considers himself fortunate. He thanks the medic, who advises him to stay a while, just to be safe. Aang isn't the type to sit around. In fact, right now, sitting around is the last thing he wants to do. He reaches for his cheek, a bandage plastered over his injury.

Stupid, stupid, _stupid_. Aang scrunches his eyes shut. How did he let his guard down? After everything that he has achieved, how could he be so reckless? And, in front of all people, why Toph? She is, in many ways, still his mentor. The girl who taught him the impossible. He's always wanted to impress her. The fact he could be so _stupid_ –

'Well?'

Aang jumps in surprise. He didn't hear Toph enter the room. She stands in the doorway, leaning against the frame. She plays her expression well: bored, uncaring. Ironically, or not, what betrays her is her eyes. Aang can see anger dangerously lurking, and he isn't in a tolerable mood right now to take her punishments.

'I'll be okay,' he says. 'It'll only leave a scar.'

'Good. Then everybody can know how _shit_ you are at fighting.'

'I've been worse before,' he laughs, hoping to lighten the mood. 'Anyway, it doesn't matter now, does it? We did it together. Sure, I slipped a little bit back then, but we didn't fail.'

'Slipped? What you did was _embarrassing_. Standing there, gawking.'

Aang swallows. Toph knew what he was doing. Standing? Maybe. Gawking? He wouldn't consider that fair. Rubbing the back of his head, he says, 'Look, you've made your point. I'm sorry. I won't do it again, I promise.'

'Yeah, I'll ensure you don't, because I'm not letting you tag along again.'

He expected as much. 'If that's what you want.' Aang does nothing while she storms over, reaches for him, and, without a warning, rips off the bandage. 'Ow! Toph, what're you _doing_?'

Then she's gently feeling the wound beneath her fingertips. Aang falls silent, suddenly a little self conscious. He swallows, and hopes she can't hear how loud his heartbeat is. 'I invented the metal cable myself – I just wanted to examine the damage. It's not as bad as I thought.'

'Yeah,' Aang breathes. 'Don't worry: it _hurts_.'

She drops her hand. 'Shame,' she mutters, 'I always imagined you with a pretty face.'

He keeps his eyes on her. 'Maybe this is an improvement?'

Maybe she can feel his gaze on her. Because she takes a step back, as if he were red with heat. An intense fire she can't overcome. 'You were _some_ help, anyway, so – thanks for that.'

'You're welcome. Thanks for letting me come along.'

She twitches a smile. Pauses. Then: 'I'm accepting your offer, by the way – as Chief. You're right: I would be good at the job.'

'Thank you,' Aang sighs, relieved. 'Would you mind if I stay a while. So we can discuss it?'

'I don't know what we need to discuss, but, sure, why not?' She turns to leave, 'Oh, and sorry about the bandage. I'll get the medic to dress you with another.'


	3. 3

**3.**

* * *

After a while, it becomes clear to Aang that there isn't any difference: carrying around Katara's letter is the same as refusing to let her go. However, it's come to the point where it's not so much losing her love he's afraid of – after all, Katara would never dream of such a thing. What bothers him is dying alone. And it shouldn't: a true, devoted monk does not fear death. Whether Aang die in the arms of a lover, or completely isolated from the rest of the world, it shouldn't matter.

Officers bustle past the office, unaware of the Avatar inside, reading the letter over again. Katara has kept it simple, and sweet. She misses him. _Misses_ him. And he can tell she's scared too. She's scared of losing him, what they had, everything they've been through – for all of that to go to waste, for all of that to be forgotten. Aang isn't something to go to waste, and she makes that painfully clear in her writing – Aang isn't somebody she wants to forget.

The letter finishes with _all my love_.

 _ **All**_ _my love._

He has to talk to her. Reassure her nothing has changed. That as long as they have each other, it's all going to be okay. Isn't it? Aang grimaces. It doesn't make sense why love is so celebrated. He can't imagine anything more agonising than being in love. The whole emotion is too intense. It's too much for one person. The heart is small, it's _tiny_ in comparison to such a huge, splitting ache, so powerful it is enough to make a human collapse to their knees.

When Toph finally arrives, he quickly stuffs the letter into his pocket.

He doesn't know if she knows. Her eyebrow twitches upwards, but she doesn't mention the sound of a letter so clearly being hidden away. 'I did say you'd wait a while for me to finish,' she says. Then, she just can't help herself: 'I'm pleased you brought some light reading to pass the time, though.'

Aang won't pretend to act clueless. 'Why did you see Katara without me?'

'Technically, I didn't _see_ her.'

'You know what I mean.'

Toph doesn't understand what the big deal is. Just because she doesn't act like a child like the rest of them. She sits opposite, kicking her feet up onto the desk. 'Your sulking was getting annoying, and I needed to hear the full story. I'm sure you're an honest guy and all, but I'd be a shitty friend if I didn't hear what Katara had to say.'

'What did she say?'

'Not much. Just concern for you. Which is weird. I mean, if I ended things with whoever I was with, I wouldn't give a fuck about their wellbeing.'

'Yeah, well, you're not Katara.'

It shouldn't. But the words are like an axe, sliced between them. Aang can feel the tension rise, and he regrets comparing Toph to Katara – _again_. It's mad. He never used to. Both women are complete opposites.

Toph sighs, impatient. 'You're right, Twinkletoes. I'm not. You see, I don't _dote_ on you like she does. I can think of better ways to spend my time, than pretending to be your mother. If you'd rather have somebody coddle you all the time, then you're in the wrong company. Clearly, though, having a Katara wasn't good enough for you either, so maybe you should let it go.'

She stops – because she knows exactly what he's about to do next.

Run away. Aang won't cope, and he'll run, and figure out his thoughts alone. What happened between him and Katara, Katara and Zuko, and now Aang and Toph – it's a _lot_. What disturbs him further is the fact Toph is absolutely right. He needs to _let go_. How can he call himself a Airbender, the Avatar too, if he just _attaches_ himself, _depends_ on other entities in order to survive? It makes him _weak_. It makes him pathetic, and helpless and–

Aang stands up. She doesn't plead with him to stay put – it isn't in her nature to beg. And maybe Aang expects her to, because it's what he's used to. But this girl isn't Katara, this girl isn't his mother, and she would let him walk away. This girl knows that, despite how he appears to be, Aang is _unreliable_. His loyalty is fierce, but his strength, his bravery, the amount he can handle and not lose his _mind_ about – he is unreliable.

Neither of them have discussed the war. Not really. Only in passing, and mostly as playful banter. Toph won't talk about the war. She outright _refuses_ to, and Aang _flees_ from the topic. They're both cowards. Because discussing emotion, and how traumatising it all was, and how Aang and Toph were just _children_ –

Then, to Aang's astonishment, Toph stands up too, and says: 'Would you like me to leave?'

He blinks. Stares at her, utterly bewildered. Awed. She has taken the initiative to protect his dignity. If Aang wants to cry, or go insane, or claw out his eyes, he is welcome to, and she will give him that privacy. She might not be able to offer comfort and affection like Katara, but she's very aware of the fact he might want her to leave him be.

If he could respect Toph any further, he would've thought it impossible until now.

Aang exhales shakily.

'No,' he whispers. Pauses. 'Do you want _me_ to leave?'

She shakes her head. 'Where would you go, anyway?'

He smiles. 'Yeah,' inhales, 'True.' Perhaps if he and Katara stayed together, he would go back to her, and it occurs to Aang he doesn't have anywhere to go anymore. Home no longer exists. He is alone. What he thought was a home never came to be. The closest he has is the Eastern Air Temple, but that place just isn't what it once was.

They sit back down again, a silent apology shared between them.

'I just want you to be yourself around me,' Aang says, 'I've been really horrible to you, and I don't want you to be anybody else.'

'That's just as well, 'cos I ain't changing for you, Twinkletoes.'

He snorts. 'Good.'

'So,' Toph leans back, folding her arms. 'You wanted to talk.'

Aang recalls what she's referring to. He nods. 'I'm pleased you accepted the position as Chief. But I had an idea – concerning the metal cable you use when in combat.' This catches Toph's interest. 'Have you considered teaching the art of Metalbending to others?'

'Sure,' she says. 'What makes you think I haven't already?'

He should have expected as much. 'I want you to have complete liberty over your officers in Republic City. It's a big responsibility–' he stops short at her deadpan expression, '–which you, uh, _obviously_ can handle.'

'I think I know what you're thinking.' A military police force, who are well equipped in Metalbending. It is a sound idea, and one Toph could definitely bring to fruition. The training would be extremely demanding, especially to begin with, but she's already excited with the possibility. 'Just one question, though.'

'Yeah?'

'When can I start?'

Aang grins. 'Soon. First, I'd like to take you to Republic City. The aftermath of the war is still evident, but homes have been built, and families have started to settle in. It's still a while until it'll become anything big. However, I have good feelings about this. Zuko has got his best men on the matter. When I visited a week ago, I could tell not much work is left before the project is complete.'

She loves the sound of his enthusiasm. 'Sweet.' Toph stands. 'Next time you go, then, I'll come along. Anyway, I gotta be elsewhere. Think you can manage without me for a bit?'

'Guess I'll find out.' Toph turns on her heel, and approaches the door. Aang's breath catches, and he calls out: 'Toph? Just so you know – this means the world to me.'

'You're welcome, Aang,' she replies, closing the door behind her.

 **.**

 **.**

 **.**

 _A bloody knife is clutched tightly – fiercely enough to draw blood. Somebody, somewhere, is wailing out, and she can taste tears on her skin. Nearby, there's the stench of death, and she can hear a man whispering – at first, they're the whispers of a parent, a much older man, a father perhaps, but his words are impossible to decipher._

 _The ground beneath grows hands. Long, outstretched claws, which she makes no effort to fight away._

 _For some reason, the knife is heavier._

 _And there are eyes, big, and red, and angry, and belonging to a face she thinks she knows, but can't quite pinpoint._

 _Then, she realises –_

 **I** can **see**.

 _There is a face, a woman's face, young and terrified and ancient – and then, the face suddenly mutates into another. An old man, unfamiliar, and then again, another face, younger, and another face, before returning to that same woman again. This woman is sad, tragic, and beautiful, and very, very familiar. Too familiar._

' _Oh,' the face says, smiling, 'It's been a long time since I've taken something so pretty before.'_

 _And then the face is gone. This hideous, inhuman creature comes into view, long legs, like a spider, reaching out for her, and the image is so awful, so terrifying, she brings the knife to her eyes–_

 _Tears them out._

 _Blood splashes to her feet, and despite the pain, she doesn't stop._

 _She rips out her eyes with the knife, her face stained in red._

' _How disappointing,' the creature whispers. A smile: 'I can tell you've done that before, hm? Protecting your face from me? Very clever. I suppose one learns from their mistakes.'_

 _The voice fades, ebbs away, and she drops the knife._

' _Ah, such a shame: you were a lovely thing–'_

Toph is torn from the dream abruptly. Immediately she sits upright, feeling her face, her closed eyelids; there isn't any blood, she hasn't ripped her eyeballs out. She opens her eyes and, for the first time, is relieved she can still not see.

It was just a stupid dream.

This isn't the first time her head has conjured that strange creature. Those faces it wears. That _woman_. Toph won't entertain the idea that there's any significance in the dream. It's just another result from the war, what she endured as a child. It means nothing.

It takes her a moment to realise where she is. Irritated to discover she's fallen asleep in the office, Toph jumps to her feet, shoves on her jacket, and leaves. She's not entirely sure what the time is, but clearly nearing midnight, considering the streets are so quiet.

The dream hasn't entirely abandoned her, though, as much as she tries to forget.

* * *

 **Note:** I saw a very interesting Kummi-Taang theory which suggests Toph is the reincarnation of Avatar Kuruk's lover, Ummi. It has plausibility, and I'm going to be incorporating the theory into this story – you got a brief taste of what's to come at the end of this chapter.

If you haven't already seen the theory, then please inform me, so I can direct you to it.

Apologies for the short chapter. I promise the next one will be longer, and with much more Taang goodness as well.


	4. 4

**4.**

* * *

Finally, when she comes stumbling through the door, half exhausted, half sober, she expects to find a quiet, empty apartment. What she's greeted with instead is a very light presence, the kind she struggles to notice until it's far too late – although her seismic senses are well attuned, Aang still manages to avoid her detection.

Toph blinks. She's confused to say the least. Did she and Aang agree to meet at her place later this evening? Before she can let a word out, Aang steps forward and says: 'Sorry – I thought you'd be home, and the door was unlocked.'

'Shit,' Toph mutters. She shrugs off her coat. 'What're you doing here?'

'I couldn't sleep.'

'Huh. What am I supposed to do? Rock you to sleep? Sing you a lullaby?' She nearly falls into the wall, quietly cursing her lack of sobriety. It was probably a silly mistake to drink after work. Toph will never admit to the fact she's a real lightweight. But for Aang to witness her unable to hold down her liquor, it's more than embarrassing.

Of course, he catches on quickly. 'Are you drunk?'

'No,' Toph snaps. 'Never _you_ mind.'

'Look, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to intrude. I actually thought you might be home earlier.'

'I fell asleep at the office,' she says, deciding to lean most of her weight against the wall. That way, at least, she won't risk tripping over. Pride be damned. 'On my way back, I decided to have a drink or two. Big fucking deal. Who are you, my mother?'

Aang looks away. True, he couldn't sleep. In fact sleeping has been a hazard lately, because whenever he does sleep, it's always an unkind experience. The dreams he suffers from – what might as well be named nightmares. He doesn't know why he pursued Toph. There's something about her blunt manner which helps him get a grip of himself, but it was her company he generally needed.

Being a close friend, he didn't feel there was anything wrong with letting himself inside. Aang thinks he probably took that for granted, though. Toph may be close to him, but she's not like his other friends. Other friends would welcome him with open arms. Toph, on the other hand, would do the very opposite. It doesn't matter if Aang is her friend. The fact is, he entered her home without her consent, without her knowing.

'So,' she says, 'What _do_ you want?'

'I'll go if you prefer.'

'No, I–' Toph groans. She sinks further into the wall, closing her eyes. 'I don't care, okay?'

'Are you all right?'

This question takes her by surprise.

She can't actually recall the last time somebody asked about her wellbeing. People have always assumed Toph is fine. She doesn't have any problems. She's confident, she's fierce, she's powerful, so, naturally, she'll always be all right. The fact Aang goes through the effort to make _sure_. The fact he might have noticed the slightest thing wrong with her, and had to be certain she was okay. It's unusual for her, and his concern makes her feel uneasy.

'Trouble sleeping, eh?'

Aang frowns. She's avoided the question, and he doesn't like that. 'Yeah,' he replies.

'So, you thought the most logical action would be to disturb me? Aw, thanks, Aang.'

'Of course not. I knew you wouldn't be asleep. Besides, when I saw the door was unlocked, and you weren't in, I… wanted to wait for you.'

She pinches the bridge of her nose, scrunching her eyes shut. 'If you expect me to comfort you in any way–'

'Please don't. That's actually one of the reasons why I wanted to see you.' He pauses. 'Can we talk?'

Toph refuses to move from the wall. She can sense him about a metre away, can feel his pulse, the tension in his shoulders. Whatever he wants to discuss, it's important, and she has a horrible feeling it'll be important for her as well.

'Go on, then,' she breathes.

Neither move. Aang decides not to beat around the bush, and his voice comes out uncharastically dull: 'I lied. I _can_ sleep, and, for a while now, sleep has been so–' _restless, exhausting, everything but what sleep should be_ , '–tiring. I keep seeing the same things, the same people. Sometimes, they're different people, but what happens to them is always the same. I didn't want to see you because I can't sleep. I'm here because I hoped…'

She tilts her head, frowning. Aang inhales, and shrugs.

'... I hoped I was right.' She doesn't say anything. Aang takes a step forward, softening his tone. 'That you may be enduring the same problem?'

There's a long silence, and, then, to his disappointment, Toph bursts out laughing. 'The only problem I have right now is _you_. I'm fucking exhausted, Twinkletoes.' She straightens, pressing a hand to the wall in order to maintain her balance. 'I sleep just fine. Perfectly, even. I'd be sleeping right now if you'd get out of my way. Or, get _out_ even.'

'I'm wrong?'

'Wouldn't be the first time,' she says quietly.

She won't tell him. She won't tell him he's probably right. Probably. But it's a coincidence. Whatever Aang dreams about has absolutely nothing to do with what she dreams about. In fact, the very idea that they might be going through the same trauma–

Gently, Aang takes her wrist, stopping her from walking past him.

'The first time I saw you, it was in a vision–'

'Shut up.'

'And I had met you before. From somewhere, in another lifetime. I _knew_ you.'

She yanks her wrist out of his grip. Clenches her fists, struggles to find the right words, because he is stepping into dangerous territory and she's too tired and too intoxicated to _handle_ this at the moment. Aang waits, helpless, and his heart sinks to the pit of his stomach. Denying him, refusing to talk, she couldn't make it any more obvious that she's aware.

Lowering his head, he braces himself. 'You knew me too, right?'

'No,' she insists. But she answers too quickly, and her guard is shattered. 'Fuck,' she whispers under her breath.

'I'm right, aren't I?' Aang's heart is in his mouth. He _is_ right. They share a connection neither have dared delve into until now, and surely it's their responsibility to, at least, _talk about it_. 'Please. I'm asking. As a friend. That's all.'

'I have no idea what you're babbling on about.'

'Yes, you do!'

Toph gasps when Aang roughly grabs her arms, turns her towards him, and his voice is pitched with desperation. He has to _know_. Aang _needs_ her to be honest with him. Because if she's been having the same dreams as he, then–

… but, Aang doesn't know _then_. If Toph won't talk to him, he can't force her. And if Toph _does_ talk to him, what happens afterwards?

He exhales slowly. 'Sorry. I'm–' he looks at her, and he falls apart, '–I'm scaring you.'

'What do you want?'

'I just want you to be honest with me, for once.'

Toph allows those words to sink in. She wants to hate him for doing this to her. For forcing her to talk, for grabbing her, for realising that, yes, he _is_ scaring her. Aang rarely loses his temper. And to not _see_ him, his expression, the pain in his eyes, how much he is _pleading_ with her to cooperate, and just tell him the _truth_.

As his hands fall, it feels like a surrender. Like him giving up.

It _terrifies_ her.

'You're right,' she says, and he freezes. Widens his eyes, holds his breath. 'You happy now?'

'Not really,' he whispers.

'I didn't have visions like you did, and I didn't know you immediately. It was briefly after the war when I started to, I don't know, figure things out. I started to have these dreams where I could see, but all I was allowed to see were–' _faces_. She grows conscious of the fact she's revealing too much for her to feel comfortable with. And, just like that, she shuts down. 'Forget about it. I never thought they meant anything. Just side effects after what happened. We all had bad dreams after the war. Mine are nothing special.'

'You saw him, didn't you? The face stealer?'

Toph shudders. _That_ is what she sees, then. This monster, who possesses all of these _faces_ , staring back at her, smiling, crying, screaming for help. 'I don't know.'

'I met him when I was younger. I haven't seen him since, and I forgot about him for some time. What with being focussed on other things. Recently, I've started to have visions of him, and not just of him, but a woman who used to mean everything to me.' Toph looks at him oddly. 'From another lifetime. A predecessor of mine.'

'What does she look like?'

'She's young. Brown, long hair. Dark eyes. Smiling a lot of the time. I don't really remember much of her, but I was once in love with her. We were going to be married actually, but it never happened. As punishment for my arrogance, her face was stolen, and she was taken to the Spirit World, and I never saw her again. I, once, tried to save her, but in order to kill the face stealer, I would also have to kill her as well. We were torn from each other.'

Toph takes in the story, but admittedly can't relate to any of it. Which is somewhat comforting. 'You say you've met this thing, then?'

'Mhmm. His name his Koh. Despite Avatar Kuruk's previous actions, he held no grudges against me. We did meet again after Azula had nearly killed me with lightning. That time around, he attempted to steal my face, but failed. I haven't seen him since, except in my dreams. And, I don't intend to. He gave me the creeps.'

'Oh,' she murmurs. Toph folds her arms. 'I recognise the woman you're talking about.' Aang raises a brow, heart skipping. 'I dream about her frequently, and it's annoying. In the same dreams, I'm so desperate not to have my face taken away, I–' she hesitates, wondering whether to be this graphic in front of Aang, but what difference would it make? He should know. 'I rip out my eyes with a knife, so I can't see him.'

'Toph…'

'Each time, he says I've learnt from my past mistakes, whatever that means.'

There's a horrible tension filling the room. It feels like a wall, slowly closing in on her lungs, suffocating her. She can feel his eyes on her. His breath, soft, like feathers, scattered across her cheek. Somewhere along the way, he placed a hand on her shoulder, watching her intently. Listening, and understanding, and knowing exactly what she's referring to.

'Aang?'

'Yeah?'

'It's all bullshit.'

He chuckles, nervous. 'I have to agree with you there. But, I learnt that it is possible for friendships to transcend lifetimes – there's no reason to believe that the same thing hasn't happened to us.'

'Maybe. Maybe not. It doesn't matter.'

'It matters to me. There's a reason you keep seeing her.'

'There's not. I probably see her because I spend too much time around _you_.'

He raises a brow. Sighs. Toph is running away from the topic, because she won't admit there's some truth behind it. This is demanding too much from her. This is demanding a great deal of emotion, the will to entertain the possibility that, maybe, she and Aang were fated to meet. That they, a long time ago, had met before.

'I saw you,' Aang says. 'That matters to me, anyway.'

And that's the final word. Unwilling to talk about this further, Toph turns away from him. 'You can stay the night,' she offers, and the reluctance is almost bitter. Aang doesn't say another word, folds his arms, and lets Toph walk away.

Once the door closes behind her, he falls back against the wall. Neither will sleep a wink that night.

 **.**

 **.**

 **.**

Aang takes the liberty to prepare breakfast the following morning. Which is virtually foreign to Toph, who has a nasty habit to forget about breakfast altogether. Her shift starts in a couple of hours, and while she dresses into her uniform, she can hear him cheerfully cooking away. Only Aang would feel comfortable enough to make a meal in Toph's home – especially without invitation. She has half the mind to knock him over the head for it.

Stepping into the next room, she approaches him; he has his back faced to her, manipulating fire under a bowl, and stirring what smells like a stew of some kind. 'Hey,' he says. Aang turns to smile at her. 'Did you sleep well?'

'Yeah,' she lies. 'What're you doing?'

'Making breakfast. You don't mind, do you?'

The desire to say _yes_ is excruciating, but she can't blame him for his generosity. 'What is it?'

'My own recipe. I went out and bought a few vegetables, some pepper, stuff like that. You'll like this one, I promise. It's healthy.'

'Urgh.' She grabs her coat, and shoves it on. 'You can save me a little, I guess.'

'I'm not saving you anything. You should eat, Toph.'

'You're starting to sound like Katara, and that's not a good thing.'

He laughs. 'I can think of worse things to be like.' He hovers over the topic for a second, then hurriedly asks, 'How are you?'

'Fine. You?'

'Yeah.'

'Great,' she mutters. 'You gonna be here for much longer?'

'I'll leave today. In fact, I'm planning to leave for a while.'

'Good. You're becoming a nuisance, latching onto me like this.' Accustomed to her charming words, Aang doesn't take it personally. Instead, he returns to the breakfast, which is about ready to be poured out. Toph lingers in the doorway. She's relieved he'll be gone – after all, she has missed her own company. But, for some reason, she isn't as over the moon as usual. 'How long is a while?'

'A few months. Probably a year.'

'... oh.'

'Don't worry. I'll be visiting Republic City often. I just–' he lowers the bowl. 'I've been thinking a lot about our discussion from last night. Maybe being around each other isn't the best thing right now. Besides, I'm in your way with your work, and there's so much more for me to discover out there. I spent a great deal of time trying to defeat Ozai, and then _recovering_ from defeating Ozai, that I never took a step back from it all. Do you follow me?'

'Right. You're leaving because of me?'

'Not _just_ you.'

'Whatever. Do what you want, Aang.'

'Have I made you angry?'

'You see, _this_ is why I didn't want to talk about what we discussed last night. This is what you _do_. Run away from everything.'

That hurts. Aang allows the sting to spread in his chest, rattle in his stomach; _pinch_. 'I'm not running away. I'm moving _on_. There's a difference, Toph.'

'Is there?' She sneers. 'Well. It's cute you got that option, Twinkletoes. I'm happy for ya.'

'You don't have to be rude. Anyway, you're the one who's complained about my being here.'

'Didn't realise you were _that_ sensitive.'

'Look, I'm not going to argue.' Aang forgets about the breakfast. 'Especially this early in the morning.' It does feel he's spent more time arguing with Toph than anything else, though. Trying his hardest to push past that tough exterior of hers. 'But you can't have it both ways. You can't get rid of me, and then ask me to stay.'

'I'm doing neither,' she folds her arms, stubborn. Irritated. Losing. 'This is your decision entirely. I don't give a _fuck_ about what you do.' She pauses, because he's right: they can't argue. She won't argue. She needs to calm down, sort out her thoughts. There isn't any reason for her to get angry. If Aang wants to move on, then good for him. Katara is moving on, Zuko is moving on, Sokka too, now Aang – how _lovely_. 'Do what you want.'

This is not how he expected thing to go. Aang won't deny he's upset. Suddenly, he's lost his appetite, and Toph's attitude towards this whole situation is so confusing and hurtful. 'Unless,' he starts, daring himself. 'Unless you'd rather I didn't…?'

'I don't _rather_ anything. I–I think it's a good decision. Doing what you want to do; and, yeah, I think you're right: time apart would be healthy.'

'Really?' Aang's expression falls. 'You think that?'

'I think…' _I think you make me feel more than I ever wish to feel_. 'I think if you hang around me much longer, I'll burst a blood vessel – that's how much you _annoy_ me.'

'Oh. Okay.'

When he walks past her, his footsteps are heavier, more rushed. She could always register his presence because it was so light, vibrant, happy. Aang walks as if his feet were mere feathers. He walks elegantly, without any weight on his shoulders, hence the nickname she gave him. But now? Now he walks as if a huge mountain of stone has been strapped to his back.

As if the wind has been whipped from beneath his feet, and he's been _grounded_.

His emotions weigh him down, like a ton. The amount of anger, pain, betrayal, _loss_ flooding through him has destroyed his balance. And Toph has done that, singlehandedly, and it is, by far, the _worst_ thing she has ever done.

'I'll leave you alone.'

Aang grabs his outer shawl.

'Sounds like a plan,' Toph mutters. 'Where're you gonna go?'

He stops. Turns to her, 'Don't pretend you care – you've made it perfectly clear that you don't.'

What Aang does next is a mistake. He doesn't leave. Not immediately.

Aang _towers_ over her. And it stuns them both into place, just how tall he is, just how much power he truly has over her; that if he wished, he could blind her – _completely_. That this man, this friend, is indeed the Avatar, and he could _hurt_ her. In many ways, he's simply taken Toph's company for granted. She is easily the best Earthbender to ever exist, but–

It isn't just her petiteness which makes her fragile, and the fact she _is_ , the fact she is completely and utterly defenceless against him, terrifies Aang beyond words.

Turning people away, being rude, being critical and horrible, it's a _defence mechanism_. An armour she's had to wear since childhood. It's all she knows. Her parents didn't teach her any social skills; they hid her for as long as they could, as if she were something to be ashamed of. Her blindness – that _was_ shameful.

Until Aang tried ever so desperately to steal her for himself.

Selfish, he reaches for her, 'I'm sorry,' and she doesn't fight him, doesn't push him back, when he tries to kiss her.

He stops. Suddenly, Aang stops, his lips a mere inch from hers. He's already overwhelmed by the close proximity between them, what he will undoubtedly feel if he dares move a little closer; what she will make him _feel_. It's already there, blurring his vision, making his heart _squeeze_ , and his knees to snap beneath him.

It is her silence which makes him tremble. He needs her to say something. He needs her to _do_ something. He _needs_ her. He has needed her since the very beginning, and it's just so _unforgivable_ of him to not _realise_ –

'How sorry are you?'

Aang can barely recognise her voice, let alone his own.

He breathes across her lips, closing his eyes. _We've done this before_. 'More than you'll ever know.'

One of them scoots a little closer. Because it's too late to fall back now. They've waited too long to change their mind. Aang, almost protectively, _possessively_ , wraps an arm around her waist, drawing her into him. She can feel his heart, pounding, thumping, heavy on her breast, and his breath is warm, rushing across her cheek.

She touches his face, the stubble across his chin, around his mouth. The wound from the metal cable, sore and rough beneath her fingertips. Aang sighs, content, eyes still closed. He wants her to touch him, know him, understand him – but a part of him wonders, _doesn't she already_? Was their discussion last night as delusional as Toph insisted it to be, or does she believe there's plausibility behind it? Does she believe _him_?

Then she passes her thumb over his lips. They feel smooth, soft, inviting, and he reacts, inching only slightly closer.

It isn't a kiss, but a touch; their noses bump, and she feels cool against his body, so small and, yet, steady. That is when he clings onto her, arm still around her waist, the other hand passing her cheek. She has more balance than he; she always has. She's his anchor, and he depends on her more than ever now, to keep him _held_.

'Aang.'

The name sends a wave of panic through him. Only briefly, he opens his eyes, just to look at her, and his eyes drop to her lips. He swallows, thinking he might kiss her. When Toph starts to retreat her hand from his face, when she's foolish to enough to abandon him at his most vulnerable, Aang is _certain_ he is going to kiss her.

'Aang, there's somebody at the door.'

'... what…?'

'Let me go.'

Then, he is thrown back to reality. Aang blinks his eyes open. Sure enough, there's a knock at the door, and he releases Toph at once. The sudden absence leaves them both in a state of shock. Toph has never been so intimate with another person before, and she has no other choice than to shove the incident right into the far reaches of her memory.

Aang isn't as strong. He stands, catching his breath, trying to control himself, while Toph approaches the door. When she opens it, Aang sees what looks like a military gentleman. 'Are you Toph Beifong?' He asks.

'Yeah, what d'you want?'

'This is for you,' and he offers her a sealed envelope.

Toph accepts, and closes the door. Aang frowns. A letter. How bizarre. Anybody who knows Toph would have the intelligence to _not_ send her a letter. She can't read it! Irritated somebody could be so stupid, Aang kindly offers to read it.

He opens out his palm, ready. But it's as if Toph hasn't heard him. She stares blankly, her fingertips brushing across what looks like a stamp over the envelope.

It occurs to Aang that there is nothing to read. Whatever is stamped, Toph can feel and interpret the symbol, and clearly that symbol means something. Because she eventually passes him the envelope, a look of mild annoyance and defeat on her face.

Aang recognises the Flying Boar, the Beifong emblem. What strikes him odd is the fact a line has been swiped through the boar. Glancing at Toph, he has a horrible feeling this only means bad news: 'What's wrong?'

'It means a close relative has died. I just need to find out if it's either my mother or father.'

He widens his eyes. 'Oh, I'm… _sorry_.'

'Don't be yet. I have to find out who it is first.'

Letter still in hand, Aang follows Toph towards the door. 'Where are you going?'

'Where do you think?' She opens the door, an invitation for him to follow. 'I'm going home.'

Abandoning their breakfast, and everything that just happened between them, Aang shoves the envelope into his pocket, one step behind her.


	5. 5

**5.**

* * *

Toph hates Gaoling. It's ironic how so many Earthbenders thrive within the town, and, yet, the very best of them had been forced into the tiniest corner, unable to move, to think for herself, to be brilliant. What terrifies her is if it weren't for Aang, she might never have escaped. And as much as she wants to believe her father only had her wellbeing at heart, she hates _him_ more.

What she can't standle is the fact Aang is waiting for her to change her mind. He knows. Walking towards the Beifong Estate, his hand brushes against hers; glancing at her every now and again, hoping to read her expression. But Toph isn't giving him a damn thing. She won't change her mind. Her parents don't frighten her – she won't _let_ them. The only reason she's here is out of duty, and she doesn't intend to stay long.

As they reach the doors, Aang casts his eyes over the gardens. Nothing seems to have changed. He recalls having to basically _trespass_ the Beifong grounds, in order to talk to Toph. Although it might not have really occurred to him why back then, he certainly felt a _pull_ towards her. She _had_ to teach him. The second he laid eyes on her in the stadium, it _had_ to be her, and nobody else. Aang was utterly devoted to ensure she was _his_.

He looks down. Without a doubt, Lord Beifong won't be pleased to see him. After all, Aang stole away his only child. 'When were you last here?' He asks.

'Nearly a decade ago.'

Aang widens his eyes, and stares at her. Unphased, Toph reaches for the knocker, and rams it against the door twice. Aang rolls back his shoulders, and braces himself for an assault of insults. He doesn't understand how Toph can act so calm.

The door opens. It's the butler, and he stops dead at the sight of Toph. Before he can say a word, Toph cuts through: 'Apparently one of my parents has died. Care to tell me which one?'

'Y–you should come inside,' he says, 'May I say it's really lovely to see you after all this time.' Toph doesn't return the affectionate words. She steps into the Estate, and Aang follows. 'Let me escort you to your father's office – he spends a great deal of time alone now, but I'm sure he'll be happy to see you. Please, follow me.'

Toph hides her disappointment well, but Aang sees right through her.

It wasn't her father she was hoping to meet.

Unless Toph asks him to, Aang won't abandon her.

He does think it odd how the butler has ignored him, though. Everybody knows who the Avatar is, and while Aang isn't a self-indulgent man, he was expecting some form of acknowledgment. He tries not to worry. If anything, it's refreshing not to be recognised.

The Estate is colder than he remembered. Something is absent. Warmth. Comfort. Welcome. A woman's touch. A _mother's_ touch. Their shoes _tap_ against the marble floor, following the butler up the spiral staircase. The marble changes into a lavish, red rug, leading them down a narrow hall. Various paintings are hung across the walls, a few awards and certificates which Aang doesn't have time to read as he passes.

Finally, they reach Lord Beifong's office. The butler finally acknowledges Aang, a questioning look on his face. Toph turns slightly in Aang's direction. 'I don't need you to come with me.' She tilts her head to the butler. 'This is my friend, Aang. Give him something to eat or drink, or sit on – whatever you do with guests. I won't be long.'

Aang isn't sure if the last part was meant for him. The butler nods, 'Of course.'

'Do you want to do this?' Aang asks. The butler strolls past him, and waits for Aang to follow.

'Do I have a choice?' Toph mumbles. Then, she turns, and knocks on the door. Without waiting for an answer, she enters the room, closing the door behind her. Aang doesn't move. He waits, for just a second, in case she retreats and decides no – no, this isn't okay. Because he'll support her if she doesn't want to go through with this.

But she doesn't. Just as he expected. Aang sighs, and follows the reluctant butler.

Inside the office, Toph can hear her father writing on a sheet of parchment. If she wasn't so sensitive to the slightest sound, she would believe he hadn't noticed her presence. But he has. His heartbeat has quickened, and he's grown tense. Toph inhales sharply, desperate to not reveal how nervous she is. The amount of power this man has over her is almost shameful.

She suddenly wishes Aang were here.

Urgently escaping that thought, she proceeds towards her father's desk. His pen slows.

Then: 'I didn't think you'd show.'

'Neither did I for a little while.'

He drops the pen. Leans back in his chair, and looks at her.

And really _looks_ at her. She can feel his eyes drilling into her skull, and the amount of judgement and betrayal bleeding through. Toph immediately feels small again. A tiny little girl, incapable of defending herself, and she _nearly_ hangs her head. But she won't. She's not twelve anymore. She's not a little girl. She's a woman, and he has to see her that way.

'How did my mother die?'

'How'd you know it was her, and not me?'

Toph's upper lip twitches into a sneer. 'Because you're still here.'

'Would you rather it was me who passed away?'

'I'm not answering that.' Toph rolls back her shoulders. 'When's the burial?'

'Yesterday.'

She doesn't believe him at first. But then, the realisation he's telling the truth feels like a flood. A sea of acid, burning away at her insides, clawing down her neck. She frowns, pauses, because her father has _buried her mother_ without _telling_ her.

Toph breathes. 'You didn't waste time, then.'

'I would have waited for you, but… you've refused all forms of communication, so how was I supposed to know?'

'This is my fault?'

'You _left_. Have you forgotten? Your poor mother tried in multiple ways to rekindle her relationship with you, but you were stubborn, and kept on refusing. You didn't want to have anything to do with us. So, I didn't know what to do. I couldn't wait for you to think like an adult, and consider _our_ feelings. I had to put your mother to rest. And, frankly, I didn't think you'd mind. You've made it perfectly clear that you want nothing to do with us.'

She doesn't know how to react. She wants to lose her temper, and _yell_ at him, because how _fucking_ dare he do this to her? She wants to walk away right now, find a safe place to just cry. She wants to not care. Because it doesn't matter. Her father is right: she made it clear she doesn't care about them, so whatever, right?

She wants to hurt herself.

 _You cocky, arrogant, stubborn bitch_. Toph can't dismiss these cruel insults she's throwing at herself. Because they're true. They're damned true. This _is_ her fault. This was her own mistake. She _did_ leave. She left with Aang, so she could save the world with him, and now she's finally returned home, successful and alive, to a father who feels nothing but shame.

'But–' Toph swallows a cry. 'She's my mother.'

'You're too late,' he whispers. 'You must've known.'

'Actually, I had no idea.'

She hears her father stand. Round the desk, coming closer. She takes a step back.

He stops. Stares at the empty space between them. At her. 'May I ask, did you bring him with you?'

'Who?'

'The Avatar. The boy you ran away with.'

She laughs meekly. 'I hardly ran away with him. But, yeah: Aang is here too.'

'Oh,' he pauses. 'It's like that, then, is it?'

Something snaps. Toph doesn't like the sound of his tone. Whatever he thinks about Aang, he can keep it to himself. 'I'm not having this conversation.' She turns on her heel, approaches the door, and then realises he is following her.

'I want to see him.'

'I'm _not–_ '

'Toph, you are still my child. I want to see him.'

Child. _I'm not a child_ , she wishes to say, but the words don't quite make it out. She hesitates, feeling too vulnerable, and anxious about what her father wants with Aang. But she can't deny him the opportunity – because she _is_ scared to disobey.

She walks out, leaving the door open.

Immediately followed by her father.

 **.**

 **.**

 **.**

One of the maids recognised Aang, and insisted she feed him – they had just taken a few vegetables from the garden, after all. Too polite to refuse the offer, Aang had followed her into the kitchen. It astonishes him how only one man has people preparing his dinner in such a fancy place. Vegetables of all kinds are lined up on the table, and the maid allows him to pick.

From the few ingredients she makes him a small meal, a drink and, while waiting for Toph, Aang reveals his travels to the maid between mouthfuls. The food is delicious and he thinks it charming that the maid is enticed in his stories. He's pleased he has something else to do, than worry how Toph is going with her father.

Aang is just in the middle of telling a funny occurrence which happened between Zuko, himself and a fan, when Toph enters unannounced. Without meaning to, she tenses entirely at the discovery of Aang speaking to a maid. So much so, she's actually unable to speak. The maid instantly returns to work, and Aang abandons his meal, coming over to her.

'Hey,' he says, 'How'd did it go?'

'You must be the Avatar.'

Aang turns. Toph's father walks towards him with a smile, offering his hand to shake.

'That's right.' Aang shakes his hand. Then, bows his head in respect. 'It's a pleasure to meet you.'

'The pleasure's all mine,' he replies.

Aang glances at Toph, who hasn't moved. She's intently listening, and Aang can't forget the way she _looked_ upon entering the room. Hearing Aang talking to another woman _frightened_ her.

'I think the last time we saw each other, you were asking me for Toph to teach you Earthbending.'

'Heh,' Aang chuckles nervously. 'She _is_ a brilliant teacher.'

'It would appear so,' he mutters, sizing Aang up. Aang starts to feel a little on edge. Less welcome. Toph turns to them both properly now, expression illegible. 'My apologies your trip hasn't resulted in much. I'm afraid the burial was yesterday.'

Aang's smile drops.

Toph panics slightly. 'We don't need to go over this again,' she warns. Toph takes Aang's arm, 'We're leaving now.'

'What kind of father _are_ you?'

 _Shit_. 'Aang,' Toph whispers harshly.

'Just because your daughter's busy with her life, that doesn't mean she's not allowed to witness her own mother's burial. Did you know that she stopped the Fire Lord from destroying the world? If it weren't for her, then undoubtedly none of us would still be alive. Aren't you at all grateful for that? I know I am. I'm grateful for Toph, and I'm going to defend her if she's treated unfairly. Which is what you've done. You don't get away with that kind of thing.'

'For a monk, you certainly have a large mouth on you,' Beifong replies. 'You also assume far too much about the relationship I have with my daughter. I would've kept her safe, kept her _far_ away from danger which you clearly have no concern about. It seems you're so _grateful_ for her, as you put it, that you don't actually realise what you've put her through.'

Aang's breath catches. 'What?'

'Enough,' Toph says, surprisingly calm. 'If you're gonna talk about me as if I'm not standing right here, then do that when I'm actually _not_ in the room. How about that? Or, better, just _ask_ me.' She sighs, exhausted with the whole thing. Exhausted with her father for acting so pathetically, and exhausted with Aang's stubborn loyalty.

'Toph, I'm only–' Aang is cut off.

'Shut up,' she says, turning away. 'I don't care.'

He watches, speechless, and does nothing to get her back. Toph leaves in a hurry, not wanting another second within the building. Feeling sheepish for his actions, Aang faces her father. His expression has dulled considerably at the sight of Toph leaving him again.

Then something happens. Beifong gives up, and Aang sees all the pain he's held back these years. Toph really _did_ abandon him, and then his wife too. He's alone. And while he might have been harsh, there was a reason _why_ he acted the way he did.

'Well,' he murmurs, 'At least she has you in the end.'

Aang doesn't ask what he means by that. He softens his expression. 'I'm sorry I lost my temper. I don't want to cause any friction between us.'

Beifong nods slowly. 'I know you don't mean to, but I think that's out of your hands.' A miserable acceptance passes his face. 'Please go. Thank you for visiting, anyway. My wife was fond of your hard work.' He lets that statement linger. Swivels around on his heel and leaves a bewildered Aang alone. Without a second's thought, Aang goes in pursuit of his best friend.

 **.**

 **.**

 **.**

It doesn't take him long to find her. But Toph wasn't hiding from him, anyway. Shoving a hand into his pocket, he joins her on a small bridge, overlooking a river passing through the town. He doesn't know how he missed this place when he was here many years ago, but his mind was focussed on more demanding matters.

Aang realises just how much beauty he must have missed as a young boy. They really did have to grow up quickly – it doesn't surprise him that he leant on Katara so much at the time. She was the closest thing he had to a mother, to a friend, to somebody who genuinely loved him. Who accepted him, defended him, loved him. She was everything. The only beauty he really did see.

He stands beside Toph, wanting to touch her, talk to her, but the silence will have to do. Instead, he enjoys the music of water, flowing beneath them. The river stretches on for miles, far beyond his view. Aang exhales slowly, already beginning to calm down. He should apologise for disappointing her, and getting angry at her father.

But Toph loathes apologies, so he thinks better of it.

'Don't you have anywhere to be?'

Aang blinks. 'Um,' he shrugs, 'No, not really. Why?'

'I think I agree with you: we've spent too much time together.' Aang's heart splits. His expression falls, and he watches her helplessly, waiting for the inevitable. She glances at him, and for a stupid moment, he genuinely believes she can _see_ him. Take in his pain, and the fact he really is _dreading_ her to say, '–I want to be alone now.'

'What I said, to your father, it was– _I'm sorry_.'

'I don't care about that,' she says lightly.

'Please, don't make me leave you after what just happened.'

'Trust me,' she says, jew clenching. 'I haven't _made_ you do anything yet.'

'Toph–'

'No. This is why I prefer being by myself. People – they just _latch_ onto you, and it's so _irritating_.'

He watches her, waits, helpless, _hoping_ she'll consider what rubbish she's saying and look at him, and just _realise_. 'I'm your _friend_. I came here, with you, as your friend. To _support_ you. That's what we do for each other. Why won't you let me do that for _you_?'

'I don't _need_ you, Aang.'

She might as well have cut a knife through his heart. He cocks back his chin, eyes on her. This might just be her pride talking, but what she's saying, what she's implying – he can't let that go. Maybe he _is_ nothing to her. She insists on it so much, he might as well start to believe her. Give himself some dignity, and walk _away_.

Then, it all sinks in. She's pushing him away deliberately. Her father's blow hasn't ended yet. It's the defence mechanism again. Her own parents have hurt her enough, and the one thing she won't be able to handle is _Aang_ hurting her too. So, she's avoiding him. She's avoiding that pain. She's pushing him _far_ away from her.

'You coward,' he says softly, all the anger fading into sadness.

To his horror, she agrees. 'Well done. You finally figured it out.'

'That's not–I–I didn't mean…'

'For fuck's sake, Aang. Grow a pair. Say what you want to say to me. Get it out! I'm sick of this _bullshit_. You _meant_ it. You meant _more_ than that. I know you can't stand me most of the time, and I'm not fucking stupid: you keep wishing I was like her. You want me to be her, so it'll be easier for you to be around me. You wish I was softer around the edges, that I never criticised you; you want me to be _perfect_ , just like her. Well, I ain't. So stop wasting my fucking time, and get away from me. I never asked you to be here anyway. You just _trailed_ along, like the pathetic piece of _shit_ that you _are_.'

She stops. Catches her breath.

Oh. Oh. _Oh, God_.

What has she _done_?

Tears sting her eyes, and it spikes her temper. Damn it. _No_. Aang doesn't get to see her cry. Fuck him. Fuck him and his selfless nature, his irritatingly good look on life; fuck him and his wonderfulness. His insistent need to defend her, to stand by her side, to _be_ with her all the time–

Why can't he be like the rest of them? Why won't he give up on her? It'd just be _easier_ for him.

She roughly wipes her eyes, 'Fuck,' but it doesn't stop hurting. Tears freely escape, and her breaths turn ragged and sharp. No, no, no, no, _no_ , he doesn't get to see her like _this_. He doesn't deserve to, he doesn't have to, he should have just walked away by now.

Then Aang gently takes her hands, and kisses her mouth.

He doesn't mean to. Doesn't know why it took him this long. Aang starts to retreat all too soon, and they _both_ panic. Urgency grips them, and Toph reacts, pushing herself into him. Aang exhales shakily, closing his eyes, fingers pulling at her jacket, digging into the material, _pressing_ Toph harder against him, so fiercely, they can no longer breathe.

Aang is not gentle. Which shocks her. He _is_ a gentle soul, and, yet, he's utterly possessed. He has to claim her, has to _have_ her. He kisses her as if he only has a few seconds before death will tear them apart. She tries to keep up with him, but he's overwhelming. Aang is _everywhere_. His breaths, his lips, his smell, his hands; all she can _see_ is him. He completely overpowers her senses, and she doesn't know what to _do_ , how to _handle_ him.

The Avatar's mind is a mess of wanting to scream, and yet laugh to the point of tears. He punishes himself for not kissing her sooner, years ago, when he should have done. He _regrets_ not having done this before when he had the chance, because kissing Toph sets his body in flames. His heart beats steadily, his hands shaking, finding her, touching her; his breath hot and moist on her lips. His body _aches_ for her, to the point of him nearly collapsing to his _knees_.

If he were anybody else, she would have asked to continue this somewhere private. But Aang isn't anybody else. He's _Aang_ , her best friend, who means more to her than she'll ever admit to, and he doesn't deserve to be anybody else. Not somebody she needs to have in a hurry. The desire to let him have her in the back alley, to push her up against the wall, and _take_ her, is driving her crazy, but she won't, she _can't_.

He deserves better than that. Better than her.

So, she pushes him off her. She does this with so much force, Aang stumbles back, shocked. He even trips over, falling, and landing heavily on his backside. Wincing in pain, he looks up at her. He breathes heavily, cheeks flushed, pupils dilated, lips sore, and still trying to comprehend what just happened. Scrambling to his feet, he tries to reach for Toph, but she slaps his hand away.

'I thought I told you to leave me alone,' she snaps.

And then it's over. Everything.

Helpless, Aang lets her walk away _again_ , although, this time around, it's more for his own sake, than hers.

Pressing his back to the bridge, Aang exhales shakily, and that's when it all starts to hurt.


	6. 6

**6.**

* * *

Before, the crowds weren't this wild.

They scream, yell, swear, cheer. It used to be a sound she enjoyed, but now, it's a racket. The noise is painful. She doesn't know if this is yet another consequence from the war. Or, if she's just getting older, or if being a child was really that blissful. What she's certain of is that she never missed the matches. Competitions like these are too easy.

Rock is hurled in her direction. Effortlessly, she dodges the attack, simultaneously retaliating. The ground splits. Her opponent loses balance. Taking advantage of this, she sends a sharp blade of earth towards him, knocking him over the head. He collapses. Doesn't attempt to stand again. This is the fourth round she's won. In less than twenty minutes.

Now, the crowds have gone insane. She tries to block them out. She can feel her next opponent entering the arena, and he's lighter than the others. Almost _skips_ in his step, and she wishes his movements didn't remind her of Aang. If she were younger, this man would have been a problem. However, over the years, she, too, has become lighter in her step. Her senses are significantly more acute than they once were, and she can hear his every movement.

For a second, she's partially distracted by the idea that this could be _him_. She recalls very well how they first met, and she wishes the reminder didn't spike such an emotional response.

It has been less than twelve hours since he kissed her. Since _they_ kissed. Since his hands were on her body, since she could smell, hear, touch nothing but _him_. And she had never _experienced_ him like that before.

Aang kissed her _desperately_ , as if terrified this may be the last time, the only time; terrified that these awful feelings they've harboured for so long might be _true_.

She blocks a storm of earth flying in her direction. She can picture him. Picture him in the best way she can. A kind face, sweet smile, loving eyes, gentle voice – _Aang_. She breathes in sharply. She did not come here to think about Aang. She came to this match in order to do the opposite. To forget about him. To distract herself. To _ignore_ the way he makes her feel. Because what he makes her feel, what he makes her want to do, want to _say_ , it forces her to just _run_.

 _Please don't make me leave you_.

Idiot. That _pathetic_ man. Who _says_ that?

How dare he do this to her? How dare he make her _think_ about him?

Snapping back to reality, Toph can hear metal bumping against her opponent's knees. This is because he's wearing a small amount of armour. A mistake. The match lasts less than ten seconds after that. She manipulates the metal, yanking it from his body, before using them to push him out of the ring. He can do little to defend himself, and his feet slip.

The crowd falls dead silent, shocked that it's over. Shocked by what they witnessed. Metalbending is still unheard of in many parts of the world, and Toph isn't sure if revealing it in her hometown was such a good idea.

Fuck it. She doesn't care enough. Before she is given her reward, and before the crowds can celebrate her triumph, she escapes the arena. Their cheers start to fade. And she doesn't know why this all bothers her. Why the Earthbending tournaments are not as fun as they used to be, why she can't stand the popularity anymore, why the very thought of Aang makes her want to slam her head into a wall, and cry all the same.

 **.**

 **.**

 **.**

'You forgot something.'

Toph turns sharply, recognising that voice. 'What are _you_ doing here?'

'Staying close to The Fire Lord has its perks: I heard about your mother. I'm so sorry.'

'What did I forget, Katara?'

A bag of money is placed in Toph's hands. 'Oh, and this too.' On top of the bag, Katara hands over a medal. 'I saw the match. I also saw you walk away right at the very end.'

'So?' Toph drops the bag of money, and the medal. 'You can keep that if you want. I have no need for it.'

'Which I find odd, coming from you.' Katara steps over, and reaches for Toph's hand. She squeezes affectionately. 'I mean, you used to _love_ how famous you were.' She pauses, knowing Toph isn't going to give her a heart-to-heart. Katara releases her hand, and lowers her eyes. 'Word spread to Zuko about your family, and he told me – I had to see you. I was hoping to find you in Gaoling, in order to visit your widowed father. When I couldn't find you, I assumed you'd be where we first found you.'

'Look, Katara, I appreciate you coming here, but I'd rather deal with this on my own.'

'I bumped into Aang,' Katara sighs. As she expects, Toph tenses at the mention of him. 'He didn't seem himself, so I asked him what was wrong. Don't worry: I don't think he told me the full story, but whatever you said, it must've hurt him.'

'If you want to defend Twinkletoes again, then get it over with in a hurry.'

Katara can't blame Toph for that reaction. She _is_ defensive of Aang, especially when it comes to Toph. However, having been with him for so many years, Katara is well aware of the fact that Aang isn't flawless. In order for Toph to lose her temper, he must've done something wrong. Or, at least, pushed her out of her comfort zone.

Picking up the bag of money as well as the medal, Katara smiles. 'I don't want to defend him. After all, I travelled all this way so I could see _you_ , not him.'

Toph swallows, unsure how to respond. 'Well,' she breathes, 'You've certainly changed your tune.'

'Heh. And I can tell you prefer it.' Toph twitches a smile. Maybe having Katara around will be easier. Although she can be a nuisance at times with her motherly habits, she's a loyal friend, and somebody Toph feels comfortable with. 'Come with me.' She tugs at Toph's sleeve, encouraging her to follow. Toph does.

Katara finds somewhere a little more isolated, in order for them to talk. She sits on a marble step, a small fountain beside it, gushing with water.

The medal and money beside her, she looks up at Toph, 'Won't you join?'

'Depends,' Toph folds her arms.

'This is harmless, okay?' Toph frowns, unconvinced. 'I've known you long enough to know you won't spill everything at once.'

'You want to talk about Aang?'

'Yes and no. Really, I want to talk about you.'

'There's not much to talk about.'

Katara clenches her jaw. 'You always have an answer for everything,' she mutters. Pauses, softens her voice. 'How is he?'

Toph realises who this _he_ is. Her father. Arms falling to her sides, she raises a brow. 'As you would expect.'

Another pause, the kind of pause which is filled with a thousand confessions unwilling to escape. Toph, then, sits beside her. Katara doesn't speak. She watches, and when Katara watches her, it is nothing like with Aang. With Aang it's intense and quite like suffocating, but Katara is _easing_. Nothing has to be rushed.

Tilting her head, Toph says, 'He buried her yesterday.'

And she can _feel_ Katara lose her breath. With Aang, his anger just _snapped_. But Katara spares Toph with her own emotions. Her thoughts on the matter are irrelevant. What's _relevant_ is how Toph chooses to react.

'It doesn't matter now. To be honest, he made a few fair points: I hadn't made an effort to know them, so he didn't know whether I'd like to be present at the burial. I don't think I'd have wanted to, anyway. I mean, I _didn't_ know them.'

Toph lets that sink in. She _didn't_ know her parents. As much as they didn't know her. And so, her father punished her for it.

When Katara doesn't reply, Toph loses her patience: 'You _can_ say something, y'know?'

'Sorry. It's just–'

'What?'

'I don't know. My father told me once that – it's never a child's duty to love their parent. It's a parent's duty to love them, though, whatever the case.' Katara leans closer towards her, 'And, that's not right, Toph: you _did_ try. Remember? When we were in disguise in the Fire Nation, you asked me to help you write a letter for them. You _did_ make an effort.'

'If you're trying to make me feel better…'

'I'm not trying to do anything. I just think you should give yourself a little credit. You're not a bad person.' Toph doesn't reply. In fact, she doesn't respond in any way. Katara searches her face, her expression, wanting to know what she's thinking, what she's feeling, but it's virtually impossible. So, she changes the topic, and focuses on what's _really_ the problem: 'Toph,' she starts, gentle; cautious. 'Did Aang hurt you?'

It nearly makes her laugh, the idea that he could hurt him. But she stops short, because Katara did _ask_. Katara isn't defending him. She did not come here for him. She came here for Toph and it occurs to her what that means. They both know Aang wouldn't _dare_ lay a finger on anybody. But that doesn't mean he's not capable of causing pain.

'Like I'd let him.'

'Okay.'

'Katara?'

'Yes?'

'... Never mind.'

Katara looks away, confused. 'You can ask me.' Looks back at her. 'Did _I_ hurt Aang?'

'Whether you did or not, it doesn't excuse anything that's happened, but–I _need_ to know what's going on between you two.'

'I loved him,' Katara says. 'I still do. But when I loved him, I was fourteen years old. And we were fighting a war, and it was a war we all knew we couldn't win. Being close to Aang, having each other – it helped. We coped. Then, afterwards, it was really wonderful. And afterwards, that was when things were difficult.'

'What do you mean?'

'I couldn't stay in one place. I needed to see more, do more; I needed to pass on what I had learnt. I couldn't sit still, and I knew it was frustrating for Aang, because all he wanted was–a _family_. He has this horrible pressure to keep Airbending alive. In order to do that, he has to have children of his own. We both wanted different things, and it grew us apart. And Zuko–' she stops. 'Zuko did not influence the relationship I had with Aang. I was never with him while I was with Aang. And it was Aang who even suggested we no longer be together.'

'All right. Fine.' Toph never doubted Katara's faithfulness. But if it was Aang who wanted to end things, then why has he been so _broken_ about it all? 'That's it, then? You wanted to finish things, too, and you both separated.' Not long after, Aang sought out Toph, and she's suddenly anxious. Aang wants a family. Why is he wasting his time with _Toph_ , then?

'That's about it, yes,' Katara says slowly.

'Oh,' Toph shrugs. 'Great.'

'If I hurt him, then I didn't mean to, and I hope he understands that. I've wanted to see him for a while now, but he's been distracted.'

'Yeah, well, do me a favour: _see him_. Then he'll stop following me around everywhere.'

'I doubt I can persuade him very much.'

Toph hears Katara chuckling, and she narrows her brows. 'What's so funny?'

'Nothing. It's just – you two are so different.'

'And?'

'And, he's always been fond of you, Toph. Around you, he's another person almost. He's happier, more playful. You bring out his best qualities. I like to think he feels safest around you. Feels _himself_ around you. It was never a secret between us. Out of everybody, we spoke about you the most – it was nice, hearing him sound so–' she breathes, '– _happy_.'

Toph stands abruptly. This conversation is too revealing, too personal. 'I can't give him what he wants. He needs to move on already.'

'I know you won't like this, but I can tell you're upset.'

'Katara–'

'Seriously? You just wanted to fight a bunch of people for the pleasure of it? You needed the kick. You liked the distraction.'

'Now, listen, princess–'

'I _know_ you, Toph. What happened?'

There's no escaping this. Toph's expression falls. 'I–we– _he_ kissed me. That's all. It's nothing.'

'You make it sound like something.' Katara stands up. ' _He_ kissed you?'

No. _Toph kissed him back_. They kissed each other, and it wasn't supposed to be like a kiss ought to be between two friends. They kissed to the point of making it _hurt_. His breath, hands, fingers digging into her clothes, and her just wanting him to rip them off of her, get it over and _done_ with. She wanted him closer. He wanted her, and Toph can't recall a time she has ever been wanted like that before. Aang was overwhelming.

It _should_ mean nothing.

But even thinking about him makes her heart race. She's so scared Katara might actually hear the panic, she considers walking away. But, then, Katara steps over, the least bit threatening, and whispers: 'It's okay. We don't have to talk about this.'

'I–' Toph finds her words, 'I think I want to. I think–' if she could roll her eyes, and slap herself for sounding so _unlike herself_ , she would. Instead, she corrects herself. ' _We_ kissed. Not too long ago. I haven't seen him since then. I don't know if I actually _want_ to see him again. He's been around me a lot. Too much. We've talked about really _weird_ things, and–'

'The face stealer?'

'Oh, fucking hell, not you too.'

'When we were together, he dreamt about him frequently. There was always a woman in that dream, too, and Aang always described her the same way. Long, brown hair, dark eyes, pretty – also a Waterbender, and, sometimes, we'd try to fit the pieces. Aang knew her well; a previous Avatar once loved her. Until her face was stolen, and he could no longer reach her. I didn't entertain the possibility that she was anybody significant, until he mentioned you.'

Toph takes a step back, pressing her lips into a thin line. _Fuck this_. 'I'm not her.'

'Oh, I'm sure of that! For one, this girl sounds _nice_.' Toph smiles crookedly at Katara's cheeky remark. 'When one is reincarnated, that doesn't mean they have to possess everything their previous self had. They can look and _be_ completely different. He saw you, though. In visions, and in his dreams. He had met you somewhere before. He was drawn towards you – at least, that's what he says, and maybe I believe it.'

'I'd love to meet this face stealer. Find out what _he_ has to say about this shit.'

'You might get something back if you try.'

Toph, initially, thinks Katara is joking. And perhaps she is, but – _something back_. For some reason, she considers her blindness. Her _sight_. The bits and pieces which were permanently taken away, and unable to be reincarnated.

A chill travels up her spine.

It can't be true. It _isn't_. She steps past Katara, and grabs the medal, before turning away. 'You can keep the money,' she says.

'Are you going?'

'I've had enough talk.' She waves idly. 'See you.'

By now, Katara is accustomed to Toph's blunt farewells – she's never been any good at them. Knowing there's no point in trying to call her back, Katara plans to return home alone. Still, she can't rid the idea that Aang's assumptions about Toph may be real.


	7. 7

**7.**

* * *

Mist clouds his view. His naked feet glide across the stone floors, and the winds caress down his arms, his torso, nearly lifting his body into the air. Eyes shut, he focusses on his heart. The rhythm, its weight, and he breathes out slow. A silent gust hits his bare chest, tickling his skin, but he doesn't feel the chill. He is immune to it. Everything external becomes void.

He falls. In his mind, he is tumbling. The earth has abandoned him, and he floats, _soars_ , and gravity no longer exists. He is free. The Air Temple resonates with tranquility. He is welcome here. He is an old friend, who has been apart from this place for too long. All he requires are the Temple's walls, the seclusion, the faint voices of those he grew up with. Air Nomads, walking along the clouds, laughing, happy, alive.

Aang meditates for days. He goes on little food, and movement; even drink. Over the past year, he has severely neglected his meditation, which is unusual of him. Aang enjoys meditating. It's always been natural to him. Easy to learn, and easy to teach. Despite the insistent thoughts in his head, he manages to block them out. Fire Lord Ozai, Zuko, Katara, _the kiss_ , and he abandons them all. They become irrelevant.

Finally, when it is okay to breathe again, when it doesn't hurt as much, he opens up his mind. Only slightly. Only allowing the slightest thought inside. But, he remains calm. In himself. Aang opens the doors to his mind, and calls out to an Avatar he once met. A question needs to be asked, and there's only one Avatar who'll be able to answer it.

Avatar Kuruk meets him on a gravelled path, leading in two opposite directions. He smiles, looking old and disheveled. Being one and the same, Kuruk knows exactly why Aang has requested his presence. Aang bows his head in thanks. 'I need you to tell me something,' he says. 'And I want you to be honest with me.'

'Of course,' Kuruk replies. 'Ask me.'

'Do you think I should have stayed with Katara? I'm starting to worry that I should have.'

'Why?'

'I can't repeat the same mistake. I can't fall in love with somebody–' he tries to not to think about Toph, or even _consider_ her, but fails miserably, '–when I know that love is doomed.'

'My mistakes aren't necessarily your own. Besides, my circumstances were different. And so is _she_ , Aang. In fact, so are you. Whatever happened between myself and Ummi – that was _ours_. _I_ lost her. If you're worried about the same thing occurring again, then you shouldn't be. You are the reincarnation of myself, but a great deal of you isn't. Your life is nothing like mine; nothing is determined. I loved her, I lost her; you don't have to.'

Aang sighs, and, already, the weight on his chest feels lighter. 'But,' he lowers his gaze, 'Avatars aren't meant to belong to anybody, are they? I have yet to meet an Avatar who has loved forever, and been happy in that love.'

'You should act on your instincts, Aang. Not on those before you.' With that, Kuruk's image disappears, and Aang is left alone.

That answer isn't good enough. Aang swallows, and considers what to do. Why can't his predecessors just given him a straight answer for once? He breathes in, closes his eyes, and requests Avatar Kyoshi to visit him.

He has always found her particularly calming. And _content_ in herself. Which is rare for an Avatar. Maybe she would have some insight.

Aang opens his eyes, and they sit opposite one another, old friends.

'Love isn't doomed. Not unless you choose it to be. It all depends on how you respond to your own emotions, Aang.'

'What should I do?'

'That isn't up to me to decide.' Aang slumps his shoulders, disappointed. 'I loved many people, though. Men and women. It is a good thing to love. You might have had bad experiences of love in the past. But that does not determine the rest of your life. And use your life wisely, Aang. Love is a raw emotion, and difficult to find. If you have it, then don't waste it.'

Aang nods. 'Thank you. It's just – what if I lose her?'

'I understand your fear, and losing a loved one is always a risk. But, wouldn't you rather have loved, than never loved at all? Tell me, Aang, what kind of an empty life would that be? And is that the kind of life _you_ want? To live in fear all the time?'

'No,' he breathes. 'I want–' he pauses, closes his eyes. 'I don't want to be scared. I want a family. I want–' opens his eyes, and looks at Kyoshi. 'I want to live my life with her.'

Kyoshi smiles. 'That's the right way to think.'

'If she'll have me,' Aang mumbles. After all, he can't exactly picture Toph _willingly_ falling into his arms. In fact, he can't picture Toph doing anything of the sort.

'You won't know, unless you ask. Neither will she. Your voice is a gift, Aang. Use it.'

He stops. Blinks. Lowers his chin. Kyoshi has a point. Aang has never actually _asked_ Toph how she feels about him. How she feels about _them_. He's spent his whole time focussing on another love which was never really his to begin with. Whatever happened with Avatar Kuruk does not have to happen to him. There's no reason for the mistake to be repeated.

Don't live in fear. If Aang hid himself away, then, _yes_ , he would never belong to anybody. He would die alone. He would waste this wonderful life. And after everything? After restoring the Fire Nation, and even building his own city, is it really worth it? The amount of emotion he has for Toph is intense. But it's going to be, especially when he's so uncertain as to where they stand with each other.

Calling these two Avatars was worth it. Now, Aang knows.

Kyoshi loved extremely. And she wasn't afraid to. She lost lovers, but that never stopped her from sharing such a powerful affection. The Avatar doesn't _just_ have to be a warrior. They can be a friend, too. They can be a lover. A father. A wife. They can be whoever. They can be Human.

The Avatar _can_ be happy.

'Farewell, Aang,' Kyoshi says softly.

He nods. 'Thank you.' She vanishes, and the world around him swirls; the paths fizzle away, and his body returns to its physical self. Aang's lungs are filled with air, and he exhales gradually, opening his eyes to the misty view of the Air Temple.

For a while, he relaxes, taking in the scene. Aang loves weather like this. The fog is so heavy, he can barely see the bridges guiding to the neighbouring Temple. He truly does feel safe here, in touch with his spiritual self.

Suddenly his stomach growls, impatient for food.

As he scrambles to his feet, Aang looks over to where Appa is currently snoozing. It's been some time since he's been alone with his loyal sky bison. And it takes him back to when he was younger. Aang was never really lonely. Even when he was abandoned, and his entire race had been destroyed, he still had Appa to keep him company.

'Come on, buddy,' he says, jumping up onto the bison's back. 'Let's go get something to eat. Yip-yip!'

 **.**

 **.**

 **.**

After discovering a few crops, some water, and even a little fruit, Aang returns to the Eastern Air Temple. He prepares himself and Appa a meal, leaning against his furry bison while having his full. And he's absolutely famished. Aang can't help but feel slightly guilty for not eating properly this past week. His meditation has clearly been too intense.

The mist has started to clear. Now, he can see the other Temple, which, unfortunately, wasn't spared as much as the one he's currently in. The Fire Nation truly left a horrid scar on this beautiful place. Aang will always be grateful for the fact the Temple's spiritual atmosphere was never taken away – that was something the Fire Nation could not destroy.

In their own way, the Air Nomads survived. And Aang is not truly alone.

As he finishes his last mouthful, Appa suddenly moves, rising to his feet. Taken by surprise, Aang nearly chokes on his food, and grabs his staff. But Appa doesn't roar, or show any signs of a threat approaching. Instead, the bison merely yawns, and returns to where he previously lay. Puzzled, Aang surveys his surroundings, wondering if Appa was just stretching.

He wasn't. Because Aang can sense a familiar presence close by. Lowering his staff, he proceeds in that direction, before stopping only a few metres away. The sound of earth crumbling can be heard, and somebody lands on the edge of the Temple floor. Aang turns his head, heart in his mouth. His breath catches when he recognises his visitor.

'You found me,' he gasps.

Toph, initially, doesn't seem all too happy. Aang worries that she might be angry with him. After all, he has been a gone a long time, and the last time they were together, he had kissed her. The last time they were together, Aang had been concerned and frustrated about his emotions; he didn't know how to handle them.

She doesn't come closer. She stays put, as if ready to leave at any given second.

'Thought I'd find you here – your safe place. If there's one thing you're good at, it's making people worry.'

'Oh, I'm sorry. I–'

'Don't flatter yourself,' she scowls. ' _I'm_ not the one who was worried. I know how unreliable you are. That you'd decide to run away – yet again. Did Katara tell you about the story when we lost you? Literally _seconds_ before the Fire Nation began their invasion? I feel like we spent most of our childhood searching for you.'

'You're angry at me.'

'I'm past angry, sweetie.' He winces at her sarcasm. 'In fact, I'm so past it, I literally feel absolutely _nothing_ for you right now.' Aang won't deny that hurt. He bites down on his tongue, afraid he might retaliate. Toph is the only one who can truly make him feel _punished_. She disciplines him, and she won't hesitate to criticise him either. Especially if she feels wronged. 'You can at least tell me what you've been doing.'

'Meditating,' he replies immediately. Toph lets out a quiet groan. 'No, really.' He has to smile at her reaction. 'I've learnt a great deal while I've been away.'

'Yipee for you.'

Aang inhales sharply, and braces himself. He won't beat around the bush. 'I'm sorry I kissed you, Toph.' She visibly tenses at his sudden confession. At what they had done. And he's _apologising_. 'I shouldn't have, especially when you were–well, when I say a fragile state, I don't mean that you're _fragile_ or anything, but–'

'I know what you mean,' she snaps. 'So, is that it? You learned how to say sorry? Oh, wow. Fucking fabulous.'

'I learnt more than that.' He raises a brow, not appreciating the mockery. 'I had to speak to Avatar Kuruk. I needed to talk to him about–'

'Fuck. _Me_. If you so much as mention _her_ again–'

'–love. Just that. Nothing else. I promise. Well, more or less nothing else. I had started to believe that the Avatar is forbidden to love; that their love is doomed and they must remain alone for the rest of their lives.'

'What did your pal have to say, then?'

'Unfortunately, not very much. So I sought Avatar Kyoshi instead.'

'I never knew you could have such a great social life with yourself.'

'Toph. C'mon. Do you want to listen, or act smart?'

'I have a habit of doing both.' She twitches a smile. 'I'm listening.'

'She told me not to be afraid anymore,' Aang says. 'That she loved many people when she was alive, and there isn't any reason why the Avatar can't love. The only advice she offered me was to – well, _talk_. Use my voice. Find out for myself.'

'Find what out?'

Now, Aang feels nervous. His palms sweat, and his breath comes out shaky, pulse racing. Toph can easily reject him. Although he might feel a great deal for her, that doesn't mean Toph feels mutual. For all he knows, she might _detest_ him after what happened.

But he won't hide. Not from her, not from this, not from what could be.

Aang abandons his staff. He walks over, wanting to reach for her, but knowing he can't. _Not yet_. Not now. Not when she's actually _here_ , with him, and if he does anything _stupid_ , she'll undoubtedly turn and leave. What they are right now, what's happening, is so slippery. So dangerous. He could potentially lose his best friend, and the very idea that might occur makes him feel sick.

The fact he's so anxious makes her anxious too. More than ever, she wants to see his face. See his eyes, read him, figure out what is going on in his silly head. Toph appreciates honesty more than anything. But, at the moment, she's not entirely sure if she can face it. Especially from Aang. And whatever he might say will clearly be manipulated by the millions of emotions crashing through him. She can _feel_ his anxiety so vividly, it's intoxicating.

'I miss you.'

For now, that's all he can manage. Because if he says anymore, he'll either crumble, or burst with so many confessions at once, she won't know what to do. And he can't force her into that kind of situation. He has to press this gently. _So gently_. He needs to tread lightly around her, let her feel too, let her _breathe_.

It's only been a week without her, and he has missed her more than anybody else in his life.

He _misses_ her. Not necessarily romantically, but just – _Toph_. He misses Toph, everything about her, everything she is to him. Teacher, friend, ally, whatever else. Her sarcasm, her wit, her brilliance, her bizarre sense of humour, her inability to cope with _emotion_. Her companionship. The joy she gave him, without really knowing it.

Toph takes that in. _I miss you_. She can't react. She _won't_.

He was the one who left. He was the one who sought seclusion. _He_ ran away. And so, he has to speak first. Whether he receives a response or not is out of the question. Because, damn it, Aang _owes_ her that much.

'When I defeated Lord Ozai, there was a point when I let him go. I gave him the option to surrender. I wanted to be merciful.' He keeps his eyes on her, just her, and she can _feel_ his presence. Him. All of him. He's close, too close. 'In other words, I let my guard down – you would have killed me if you were there.' He chuckles, trying to relax the tension between them, but he fails. He holds his breath. ' _He_ nearly killed me – and… I don't know why, but in my last moment, I thought about you. What you had taught me. I used what you taught me, and defeated him. You saved my life that day, and I never got to tell you. I didn't know if I _could_ tell you.'

It remains clear in his mind. Seconds before Lord Ozai came in with his final blow, Aang used his seismic senses in order to avoid the collision, and that was all it took. She may never have known it, may never accept it, but Toph _saved_ his life.

Aang _needed_ her. _Needs_ her.

To survive, to live, to be Human.

'You should know, though – you deserve to know how… how _important_ you are to me.'

She has gone completely still. Aang is frightened he might have said too much. He doesn't want to scare her. He's aware of the fact he can be very emotional, while Toph pretends to be the very opposite. But she hasn't fled. She hasn't fled. She stays, listening to him, taking in every word, and as much as it _does_ scare her, she trusts him enough to stay.

'I am sorry I kissed you that time because – it wasn't supposed to happen that way. I wasn't myself, and you had just gone through something awful. But, I don't regret kissing you, and I… I hope you don't regret it either.' He chuckles, suddenly bashful. 'Thing is, I–I like kissing you.' His smile falls, and his voice quietens. 'I feel so much when I kiss you.'

Toph doesn't realise her breathing has accelerated. But she isn't nervous. She's everything but nervous. She parts her lips to speak, but nothing comes out, so she decides to give up on that option. She felt something, too. And it wasn't just the _something_ she's felt with other people in the past. This something wasn't the need to be fucked. This something was – _deeper_ than that. More profound, more raw, more real.

This _something_ felt like insanity. A complete invasion on her emotional state.

' _Oh_ ,' she manages.

Aang searches her expression, now beginning to panic. He chuckles breathily. 'I can stop, if you like. I don't – _we_ don't have to talk about this if it makes you uncomfortable.'

'I'm not uncomfortable.' Toph speaks in a whisper, because, at the moment, a whisper is all she can just about cope with. A whisper doesn't demand too much. Besides, nobody else needs to hear this conversation. So a whisper works fine. 'I met Katara the other day.'

Frowning, Aang isn't sure where this is going, but he doesn't interrupt.

'I think you're wasting your time.'

His heart stops. The blood drains from his head, and he's suddenly terrified with what she's going to say next.

'You left her because she couldn't give you what you want.'

'... and, what's that?'

'You _know_. The one thing I can't offer you either.'

His thoughts float to a place with children, young Airbenders, his own. A family that would never come to be. Toph crushes his heart with reality, and he wishes it didn't _sting_ this much.

'Ah.'

She's right. Of course. Aang is wasting his time. _Time waster_. Fool. Idiot. If Katara doesn't want to settle down yet, then Toph _certainly_ will never be at that stage any sooner.

'I know,' he whispers, so quietly Toph can just about hear. 'I know you can't.'

Then his heart weeps blood. Aang closes his eyes, and falls to his knees.

Toph is _devastated_ to have done this.

But, she can't deny the truth.

Aang wipes his hands down his face, tired, old, dying.

When he cries, he does this silently, but freely. Tears trickle down his cheeks, to the floor, and he just lets them pour. He has nothing left to hide. Not in front of Toph. He wants her to witness him exactly the way he is. No armour, no masks; just Aang. Just a boy, lonely, a race close to extinction, and unloved. Born to fight a war which was never his.

'I'm sorry,' he whispers. 'You don't deserve this.'

And her heart shatters to pieces.

He's hurt. _Aang is_ _ **hurt**_.

This poor, poor boy.

She joins him on the floor, and cradles his face between her hands. He leans forwards, weak and exhausted. Rests his forehead against hers. Tears pass her fingertips. His breath trembles, stopping abruptly with each wave of agony swooping him down.

'Neither do you,' she hears herself say.

He turns his head, lips on her cheek, breathing her in. 'Toph?'

If she doesn't hold onto him, she's afraid he might break. And she doesn't want that. _She doesn't want to lose him_. She reacts, reaching out, bringing her arms around the back of his neck, and cuddling him. Aang gasps, falling into her arms helplessly. His hands search for something to hang onto. He clings to her, embracing her firmly.

Now, she knows – she can't let him go, and he quietly begs her to stay.


	8. 8

**8.**

* * *

'Sometimes, I can hear them. I don't know if it's just wishful thinking, but – it's as if they never died. Whenever I meditate here, I feel at home; I feel safe. My friends, the Air Nomads whom I grew up with – they are all still here. In spirit. That's what so special about this place. The Fire Nation weren't capable of appreciating the transcendent, and only destroyed what was physical. As a child, I genuinely believed I was really alone, but, whenever I'm at this Temple, I know that's not true.'

Aang passes his fingertips across the stone walls. Daylight is drawing in, and due to lack of clothing, he has now started to endure the cold. He's left his shawl outside with Appa, who dozes soundly. Within the Temple, it's warmer, but the floors are chilling against his feet.

Drawings have been inscribed into the walls, mostly depicting Air Nomads and their practices. Important lessons which Aang was taught at a young age, before it was revealed about his Avatar status.

Of course he regrets not visiting often enough. The moment he discovered his entire race had been killed, it felt as if his life was over. All of his hard work, everything, had been for nothing.

He drops his hand to his side. 'I shouldn't have ran away,' he mumbles. 'If I didn't run away, I would've been able to help them fight against the Fire Nation.'

'You sure about that? From what I recall, Aang, your Bending abilities were pretty lousy when we first met.'

'I wasn't there, when they died. Everybody I grew up with – I wasn't there.' Aang sits, back pressed to the wall. His eyes fall half shut. Then, he looks up at Toph. He doesn't know if she can hear them too. If she's conscious of the strong spiritual presence within the Temple. 'Maybe it was destined that I vanished, and came back in time to stop the Fire Lord.'

'Okay,' Toph challenges, 'Let's say you didn't run away. My bet is that you wouldn't have survived.'

'That's generous of you.'

'I'm serious. Think about this rationally, Aang. Yeah, you are the last Airbender alive, but if things were different, there wouldn't be any Airbenders at all. If you died back then, we would all be Fire Nation.' She pauses, because if Aang had died, then she would have never met him. And that _horrifies_ her. It was Aang who encouraged her to escape her parent's home. Aang is why she is here, why she has learnt so much, why she is alive. 'Also,' she breathes, 'What would have happened to the rest of us?'

Katara, Sokka, Zuko, Suki – all of these wonderful people he met throughout his journey. What would have happened to them? Aang doesn't entertain the thought. He doesn't _want_ to know. Looking away from Toph, he won't even consider her situation. 'What now?' He whispers. 'I defeated Ozai. Zuko is the rightful heir. Azula has been locked away. Katara has found a life with Zuko, and Sokka and Suki are happy together. I'm happy my friends have found peace.'

'But…?'

Aang chuckles. 'You're right, Toph. What about us? Where do we go from here?'

'I don't know about you, but I'm content with where I am.'

He doubts that. 'You didn't seem so content a week ago, when we met your father.'

'I'm better than I was, Aang. Better out here, disowned, than in there, trapped. I know my parents were only wanting what was best for me. Before I learnt the benefits of my Earthbending, I didn't have much of a life to pursue. I'd pick any other life than the one I had. So, yeah, this one I'm leading right now is fine by me. It's not perfect, but it's good enough.'

Aang smiles. That's fair. And, if he's honest, perhaps he feels the same. His life is far from perfect. However, he can't choose. What he currently has is the most he could ask for. At least he won the war. At least his friends survived that war. At least he was there to witness those closest to him find happiness with each other. Toph's bluntness is appreciated: this _is_ good enough.

For now. For now, it is good enough.

'Come here.'

She doesn't hear him at first.

Aang's eyes follow her while she walks towards him. When she sits beside him, he straightens, sighs. 'Have you ever meditated before?'

'Is that a joke?' She snorts.

Once, he would've not even _bothered_ with Toph. 'People suggest only Airbenders can meditate. That's not entirely true. Airbenders may be able to communicate with one another through meditation, but meditation is more than that. It's about finding fulfillment in one's self. To calm down. Relax.' Toph listens, unconvinced, and he grins at her expression. 'Try with me.'

'No offence, Aang, but I'd rather eat dirt.'

'Coming from you, that's not saying much,' he teases. 'I'd be bad at my job if I didn't pass on what I know. Iroh helped me understand that all four elements are not separate, like we're led to believe. They're connected. So, there's no reason why an Earthbender can't think or fight like an Airbender. And visa versa. I'd say learning all four elements has taught me that, but you don't have to be the Avatar in order to appreciate this teaching. Will you let me?'

She hesitates. Although she holds huge respect for Iroh, the idea of meditation does feel too far apart from what she can comprehend. Toph _is_ an Earthbender, and an Earthbender _does_ depend on the physical. For an Earthbender to _transcend_ that, it's unheard of. Then again, Toph did disprove the theory that Metalbending is impossible.

'Fine,' she murmurs, 'Whatever.'

'Thank you.'

'I'll try not to fall asleep.'

First, he corrects her posture, informing her to sit in the lotus position. And then to breathe.

Breath is vital. It must be steady. Deep. Through the lungs, down to the belly, and then exhale. Long, slow, and gradual. Aang's voice is soft, more calming than usual. He tells her about right mindfulness. Be it of the body, the senses, and consciousness. This is in the attempt to prevent cravings, such as attachment, the desire to survive, to depend on the material. The sort of teaching which takes more than just one sitting of meditation. It's a life. It's a _way_ to live.

'As you can imagine,' he whispers, 'I'm still struggling on that.' His need to be loved, to be noticed, to have a family; his pathetic habits of falling in love, especially with the wrong people. 'The problem with being the Avatar, is that I can't detach myself from the real world. I'm necessary to fight battles, to help people. So, it's destined that I fail the Air Nomad teaching on detachment.'

Toph gives this some thought. The demands being placed on Aang are ridiculous, in her mind, but she can see the benefits of following these teachings. 'At least you can't get hurt,' she says. Disappointment, sadness, heartbreak – they're all derived from not getting what is desired. When expectations aren't meant. When things die. Without attachment to these gifts in life, then there's nothing to be disappointed about. And she thinks, would that be an easier life?

'Exactly,' Aang replies.

'Is that what you want?'

'Once, I might have. Not anymore, though.'

Toph tilts her head in his direction. 'So, when you do have children, would you detach them from everything too?'

Aang is impressed, yet surprised by her question. 'You said _when_.'

'C'mon. You're pretty desperate, and I doubt there are many ladies out there who'll deny the Avatar. Anyway, stop avoiding my question.'

'I wouldn't teach them that, no. I managed, after all.'

'Then you would be going _against_ the Air Nomad teaching. Not very loyal of you.'

'That's like suggesting the only way to Earthbend is through physical strength. You disproved that, right? Well, I'm the same. We had to adapt to our teachings, while our teachings also had to adapt to our circumstances. We improved on them, I guess.' Aang relaxes his posture. 'It's funny. When I was told I was the Avatar, I wanted to be anything – _anything_ but the Avatar.'

'What did you want to be?'

'A teacher,' Aang smiles at her. 'I remember, seeing my Master, looking down on all of us young Nomads. He looked so powerful and brilliant. And I wanted to be him. I wanted to achieve that level of mastery.' Aang sighs, almost dreamily. He casts his eyes along the walls, the pillars, the many children these Temples once housed. 'It's silly, isn't it? Wanting to be something you know you can never be?'

Toph frowns. '... Why can't you?'

'Because I'm the Avatar. That's who I am. That's all people will see me as.' There's a long silence. Toph doesn't say another word, shocked Aang can actually think so little of himself. It never really occurred to her how imprisoned Aang must feel with his status. Aang worries he might have stepped out of line, and laughs anxiously. 'Anyway, I should be grateful. To be the Avatar – it's something I should be thankful for.'

She smiles crookedly. 'You're talking shit again, Twinkletoes.'

'Well,' he grins, 'Maybe.'

'I think you'll exceed him. This Master you idolise.'

'You think so?'

She shrugs. 'Why not?'

Aang blinks, softening his gaze. He inhales, exhales slowly, and he believes her – he _wants_ to. There's nothing stopping him from being not only the Avatar, but a Master also. One day, he will have children with a woman he has yet to meet. Then he'll be able to pass on his knowledge, and the Air Nomads will flourish again. They will survive, and he shall be that Master, powerful and brilliant.

Is that what he wants? Is that _really_ what he is destined to become? Aang's lungs feel as if they've closed in, and his breaths come out ragged. Shaking. For the first time in his life, he genuinely feels lost. After the war, he never gave _himself_ a moment. A second to heal, to figure out his place in this world, to understand the fact he is trailing behind.

Only recently has his age truly hit. He and Toph may joke about it, but he _is_ too old.

Eventually, his body will catch up. Aang knows he won't outlive everybody else. He'll have his final days very soon, but he _has_ to achieve the best he possibly can before then.

'You could be a part of that, too,' he says quickly.

Aang looks away, knowing what her answer will be – she's been blunt with him about this. But then he looks at her again, and she hasn't answered, and he realises: she's considering it. The possibility. The possibility of _them_. And that's all he can ask for. Just the consideration. Aang tries to smile, tries to convince himself it'll be okay.

It won't. Of course it won't, but if lying to himself makes it less painful, then so be it.

'Sorry.' Aang swears under his breath, because the familiar sensation of wanting to cry is creeping up his throat. And he just feels so _helpless_. So _weak_. 'I'm sorry.'

Toph reacts on her emotions, and it is something she'd _never_ do. But what she's feeling right now is overwhelming, it's too much to tolerate, and she has to _handle_ them somehow. She reaches up to kiss his cheek, and then he turns his head, his lips brushing across hers. His eyes flutter shut, and he breathes in sharply, but, suddenly, she manages to control herself – avoids his kiss.

What makes it worse is that he isn't surprised by her response.

'Stop saying you're sorry.'

Aang needs a moment to find his voice. 'You're the only one who can hear me right now. I don't know what else to say.'

'You sound pathetic.'

'Then you can go,' his voice cracks, and he mentally curses himself. _Fool_. 'I'm not forcing you to stay with me.'

Initially, that feels like rejection.

Like something made out of steel and venom, agonisingly digging into her flesh.

Initially, she panics, because that isn't what she meant. Because sometimes she says things, and they come out brutal, and she doesn't _really_ mean to make the pain worse. 'Do you _want_ me to go?' He reacts, glowering at her, and he can't believe she'd ask something so _stupid_. Hasn't he spent the last few hours _begging_ her to stay? Aang won't force her, never, but–

'Why did you look for me?'

'What?'

'I said, _why_ did you look for me? If you can't stand being around me, then what are you _doing_?'

This spikes her temper. It's _obvious_ why she came looking for him. Because the only thing Aang is good at is running away, so _somebody_ had to find him. And, lately, it feels as if she's the only person left in this shitty world who makes the effort. Despite what he says to her, despite the fact they're so _talented_ at pushing each other away, she can't just _leave_ him.

Not again.

 _Not again_. Not like last time.

Then she stands to her feet, and doesn't hesitate to abandon him, and Aang just sits there, wide eyed, horrified, in shock, paralysed because _she is leaving him_. What is she supposed to do? As far as Toph is concerned, if a person is angry with her, or doesn't want her around, or argues with her, then it's clear she's not wanted. Without realising, Aang has pushed the limit.

And how _dare_ she walk away?

He scrambles to his feet, furious, but only furious at himself for letting this happen. 'Wait.'

'What?' She snaps, turning to him, rooted to the ground.

For a split second, he thinks they're going to fight.

For a split second, she does too, and on instinct, they nearly brace themselves for the impact.

'What _now_?'

Aang's heart hammers against his ribcage. He's going to be sick. He's going to lose his nerve. She's too far away for him to reach her, and if he lets her walk away, leave him, he'll be _lost_. Aang exhales, shuddering, closing his eyes.

Gods help him, what should he do? What should he say?

'You didn't answer my question,' he whispers.

Toph is taken aback. 'You wanna know what I'm doing here?' She hates how her voice comes out trembling, but she can't help it. Fuck this, she can't help it if her voice is shaking, if he's _getting_ to her. 'I'm here for _you_ , but I thought that was obvious enough.'

'Thank you,' he sighs heavily. 'Thank _you_. That's – why is that so _difficult_?' He steps over, heavy on his feet, heart in his mouth, wide eyed, pleading. 'I want to be with you, and I know you feel the same, but how do you expect me to respond when you – when you push me away? I'm _confused_. Yeah, I'm angry, and I'm hurt, and it's pathetic, I _know_ it is – but what do _you_ want me to say? What do you want me to _do_ , Toph? I can't help it. I'm _trying_. I'm really _fucking_ trying to get over everything that happened, but it's _impossible_. I died _twice_ during that war. Nearly a third time. I've never spoken out about what I went through, and I don't want to, but everything that has led me up to this _point_ –'

He surrenders. Aang nearly collapses from exhaustion, from frustration, from trying to cope.

'I want it to stop,' he whispers. 'The nightmares, the pain, just knowing I–I'm alone. These _thoughts_. They're horrible, they won't leave me alone, as hard as I try. I want it to end, Toph. I want to stop… I…' His voice catches, and he roughly wipes his eyes. 'Please – I want it to all go away.'

And then it's out. She's heard it all from him, and he's left defenceless.

Coming home, winning a war, is harder than Aang ever expected.

Aang sighs at the sensation of her fingertips on his cheek, passing the scar where the metal cable slashed him. He leans into her touch, eyes falling shut. Toph takes him in – his features, ruined and beautiful, how he's beginning to lose his balance, how it's all just a bit too much right now. How, in front of her, he's dropped his armour and this is him, this is Aang, broken.

'Please don't leave,' he tries.

She draws him nearer, kissing the corner of his mouth, and he scrunches his eyes shut. Spending a life disciplining himself so harshly, refusing himself any forms of distraction, and being given so little, when he has offered so much – it makes his body _ache_. Scream out, wanting to be loved, to be held, to be desired. His voice is a sad lullaby to her ears, and she doesn't know how to stop him.

A hot tear scalds her lower lip, and it doesn't belong to her. Aang clenches his jaw, fighting himself, going _mad_ , one hand pressed to the small of her back.

They haven't done anything yet. They haven't done anything yet, and he's already shuddering, already slipping away, and she grabs a hold of him. She suddenly has him, she _clings_ onto him, keeping him steady. _Trying_ to keep him steady. Trying. _Having to_.

'Just once,' she says. 'Only once.'

Both of them meet each other halfway. And it is nothing like last time. Toph takes her time, kissing him, dragging her palms down his bare chest, the muscles and bone, and soft skin. She does nothing to protest when his tongue parts her lips, an urgent moan escaping him. For a brief moment, he hesitates, uncertain of himself, and then it just

 _happens_.

He presses his chest tightly against hers. His hands untie her hair, before tugging gently. She breathes in sharply at the sensation, a chill travelling down her spine. Aang tilts his head, deepening the kiss, his tongue hot in her mouth, palms gliding down her shoulders, searching for a way to discard her clothes. What startles her is how _patient_ he is. He could kiss her for an eternity if he could. Kissing her, holding her close to him, it's like home again.

As she helps him undress her, Aang smiles faintly against her lips, 'It's been–' he exhales, nervous, '–a while since.'

She knows.

The lengths he and Katara went to with each other, she doesn't care to be aware of. But she knows it's been awhile since he's touched another woman. And, the same goes for her. Really, Toph's experiences have been less than satisfactory, and nothing in comparison to this.

Her hands drop to his belt, slipping it away from around his waist. Aang pushes his mouth harder to hers, allowing his hands to pause just below her chest. But the invitation is more than apparent. He smooths his hands inside her top, feeling bare skin, touching old wounds, unattended to and ignored.

Aang breathes, kissing her jawline, her neck, collarbone, and she takes his face between her hands, forcing him to kiss her mouth again. Aang obliges, and he presses his palms to her breasts. The sensation, how he _touches_ her, how his palms tenderly massage her chest, squeeze ever so gently, it sends a drive of urgency through her. Toph moans quietly, holding his wrist, the other pushing on his torso.

'Lie back,' she manages to demand in-between kisses.

When he does, he reaches for her, not wanting another second apart. Their mouths crash together, his fingers press into her waist as she straddles him, and Aang hopes he can convey even a _fraction_ of how much she means to him. As she adjusts herself, she can feel his erection against her thigh, how heavily his chest falls with each breath, how he's shaking beneath her.

To her pleasure, Aang takes the initiative, and touches her. His finger delicately brushes her warmth, and he groans at how wet she already is. Knocking his head back, Aang watches her react to the pressure of his fingers, gliding up her entrance, and finding her clit. Just to help her get things going, he teases her, using the pad of his thumb to rub and create gradual friction. Toph manages to stay quiet, holding her breath, and moving her hips slightly to meet him.

Aang exhales, smiling faintly. This is nothing like he expected it to be. But really, he doesn't know what he was expecting from her. Whether it be soft and gradual, or aggressive and rushed. He closes his eyes when she strokes his length, taking his hand away. Aang swallows, heart pounding, running his hands up her back, and letting her take him.

'Do you want–?' Toph pauses, because he's spoken, and they can barely catch their breath, they want this so badly. But Aang interrupts. He interrupts, and suddenly it's just him and her. Just them. And he feels so safe. Protected. 'Is this–? Do you want this?'

The amount of _shame_ in those words. Toph doesn't know where to start. He's less than an inch from being inside her, and he's asking her this _now_? But, instead, her voice comes out almost unfamiliar. Belonging to somebody Aang might as well have just met. 'Yes,' she breathes. 'Stop talking. Please.' She can feel him relax, take in what she's told him.

Aang groans when he enters her, raising his hips slightly to help her. He doesn't rush her, knowing she needs to adjust to him, and the last thing he wants to do is cause her pain. But it feels _incredible_ for him. He exhales shakily, desperate to move. She rests her hands on his chest, and she can feel _every part of him_. His pulse, his blood racing through his body, his breaths, his heart, the amount he's shaking and quietly urging her. He's more vivid than anything else she's experienced before.

Never has she been like this with another person. And Aang knows that. Aang appreciates that.

When she starts to move, Aang's breath catches, and he raises his knees, holding her waist. Maybe it has been a long time, because he's _shook_ by the amount she's making him feel, how _good_ she feels, how _delayed_ this all is. It's taken them _this_ long to get here.

He reaches to cup her breast, coaxing further pleasure, and she's so _lovely_. Aang has to kiss her. He has to. He wants her closer, and if he doesn't have her closer, he'll go insane. He pulls himself up into a sitting position, and she gasps as he buries deeper inside her.

As his length slips in and out, Aang can feel red hot heat rising from his groin, spreading across his abdomen, down his legs, up to his heart, his chest, and he kisses her. They kiss hungrily, for what feels like hours, and hours, and he kisses her again, teeth clacking, throbbing for her, needing her, and he pushes her down. Back to the floor, she spreads her thighs a little to give him more room, and he sinks into her effortlessly.

'Fuck,' Toph murmurs against his mouth.

Aang increases his pace, pressing his hand into the floor, trying to contain himself. He leans in to kiss her again, and she grips onto him. Aang can tell she's close, and the fact she's drawing to a finish is enough to send him over the edge. She abandons his lips, struggling to quieten herself, but it falls apart. Aang shudders when she comes, and her moans are wonderful to his ears. He drops his head, unable to hold back anymore, and he cries out, released.

He rests his forehead a little above her chest, catching his breath. Aang can hear her heartbeat, loud and heavy. He raises himself to look at her, his temple glistening with sweat, and then he can just about manage a smile. 'I–' but he stops.

Whatever needs to be said can wait.

After all, he isn't finished yet. And, apparently, neither is she.

He doesn't require much encouragement. Aang can already feel himself tightening, and he kisses her, his chest rubbing against hers. They've barely said a word to each other. Aang doesn't know whether this is a positive thing, or not. It leaves him panicking slightly, but she quickly distracts him. She's started to really like the stubble along his cheeks, letting her palms glide across when she holds his face. Aang's breath comes out rushed and warm.

When he slips into her again, he takes his time, and it makes him shake all over. 'Toph,' he breathes, wanting to initiate some kind of conversation, or perhaps just needing to say her name. Having to know this is all real, that this is happening, that _they_ are happening, and it isn't a dream.

And, the poor boy, the things he wants to _say_. What he wants to tell her, what she must _know_.

But he doesn't have to. She knows. Of course she does.

Instead, he tries to tease her, 'I thought you said just once.'

Toph appreciates his attempts to lighten the mood. 'Yeah,' she twitches a smile, 'I know I did.'

Their minor interruption doesn't last long.

For the majority of the night, Aang and Toph spend it touching each other, holding each other, tangled up. A childish part of Aang believes that if they stay awake, then morning won't happen; they can stay like this forever if they wanted to. She won't leave him. The Temple will be theirs, and solely their own, and, maybe one day, little ones will slowly form into the picture.

Eventually, they kiss each other to sleep, his fingers tightly intertwined with hers as if it's enough to convince her to have him, and he doesn't let go.

* * *

 **Note** : oh my fucking god this ship is death.

In other news, I'm out all day tomorrow, and then painting the town with booze and more booze. This means I'm not too sure when I'll next be updating this fic, but the break will at least give a few readers to catch up.

Please leave some feedback. I can't stress enough how much a review means to me. For those of you who have reviewed in the past, I really do appreciate it, thank you.

Cheers!


	9. 9

**9.**

* * *

If crisis were a living entity, then Aang would be just that.

His life is a crisis. The Avatar's entire existence hangs on a string which shudders and shakes with each episode in his long years. From abandoning his people, dying in the ice, seeing Katara's eyes for the first time, letting down his defences and allowing Azula to almost destroy him; and, then, having to face the deadliest man on earth. Afterwards, to lose the love of his life merely because he wasn't good enough for her, and now lost in a sea of uncertainty.

Aang makes love as if he would die tomorrow, and he becomes delicate. Every possible emotion suddenly thrashes within him, and he's incapable of managing the impact. Aang feels, and he loves, and, God help him, he feels _deeply_. The sensation of his body, of him inside her, how he shudders, cries out from something as simple as pleasure, and grips onto her dearly. Aang is intense. He's demanding, breathtaking, and he is damaged.

Carefully, she untangles herself from him. Aang persists for a moment. He reaches out, arms around her, cuddling her tighter, hoping, so stupidly hoping that if he _shows_ how much he wants her, she'll change her mind. But she isn't Katara, she isn't perfect, and Aang realises what he has done. As his hands fall away, and he lets her go, he realises he has fallen in love with a woman who can never commit to him.

Out of all the people in the world, it had to be _her_ ; and _why_?

Toph is quiet while she dresses. And she dresses quickly. His heart sinks, because he knows she's done this before. He's just another one. Aang's throat narrows. Another one. Another pathetic, weak man who is just an easy lay. Swallowing hard, he grabs his trousers and shoves them on. His heart is hammering against his ribcage, and he's about ready to burst. If they don't talk, if they don't discuss what happened, it will eat him alive.

It shouldn't be this way. That's what stops him in his tracks. It shouldn't have _resorted_ to this. He and Toph, for as long as he can recall, have been friends. Sex between them has never really occurred to him until now, and they certainly never shared any attraction when they were teenagers. Was it just the moment which forced them to act like this? Or, has it always been there? Have _they_ always been there, but it wasn't time for _they_ to happen until now?

He sighs.

'You're leaving.'

She tightens her belt, barely acknowledging his statement. 'Yeah.'

Aang doesn't go as far as pulling on his trousers. Because she's soon fully dressed, and ready to depart, and he can't _believe_ she's going to walk away without a word. He reaches for her hand. Toph doesn't refuse him this time around, and he's surprised when he actually _does_ hold her hand. Now it's up to him. Now he has to speak.

But what should he expect from her? She's independent to a fault. He can't have her.

'Take care, then,' he says.

This isn't actually what she wants to hear. Toph frowns. 'Take care? Seriously?

'You're going, aren't you?'

He isn't going to fight.

They've done enough fighting, and now that they've laid each other down and reconciled, he has no fight left in him. 'Oh,' she breathes. Perhaps it's just how close they were, rocking into each other, touching each other, kissing, fucking, because she's at a loss for words. 'Right.'

'Unless…' he chews on his lower lip, '... you want to stay?'

'And do what? There's literally _nothing_ for me here. I only came along to encourage you to come back, but the rest is up to you.'

'So, what happened, what we did – that was just… your _encouragement_ , as you so put it?'

'Yeah, I guess. Whatever floats your boat.'

'Toph?'

'No. _No_. I'm done, Aang.'

As she slips her hand from his grip, Aang's heart shudders still.

To argue with her, to try and prove her wrong, would be silly. She came here to make sure he was all right, to ensure he was alive at least. But he isn't her responsibility, and Toph has made it perfectly clear she _never_ wants him to be her responsibility. At the end of the day, she's a teacher, a friend to him, and that's it.

And he just can't _help_ himself.

'You wanted this, too.'

Toph pauses, and he can tell he's irritated her. To talk about feelings, to talk about sex, it's her worst nightmare.

She glowers at him, _daring_ him to make her feel uncomfortable. If Aang really wants to push his boundaries, she will punish him for it, and he knows she'll make him bleed.

'Look,' he starts. Then, suddenly, he's impatient and his voice comes out sharp and low. 'As much as you want to, you can't deny what happened between us. If you wish to ignore it, and pretend nothing occurred, then fine. But keep me in the loop as well, Toph. What happened – _I_ was a part of that, as well, so _you_ need to cooperate with me. And what we had, what we did, it was–'

Incredible. Wonderful. Lovely.

Aang has never felt so whole in his life, and only _she_ could give him that, but it's not enough.

'Just tell me: is this it? Are we through?'

She listens to him, doesn't interrupt him, because he's doing what she can't.

The way Aang talks about them – _are we through_? This isn't a petty breakup. This is him making sure that all the tension, the buildup, these torturous emotions they'd had for one another are finally _sorted_. They no longer need to act on them, and, for the rest of their lives, they can continue on without thinking about each other and wondering – _what if_?

For some reason, Toph is upset he's demanding so much from her so soon. She doesn't quite understand why she's _this_ aggravated by his questions, but can't he give her _time_? It's all well and good for Aang to blab on about his own feelings, but what about hers? He's damn right. _Both_ of them made love to each other, and while Aang is capable of sorting out what's going on in his pretty head, Toph needs to comprehend everything alone.

And what happened _was_ overwhelming. Because sex has always been about curiosity, or needing to feel appreciated, or just wanting to be fucked, but with Aang – with Aang, she wanted _him_. What he means to her, how he feels against her, the amount he can make her feel – only Aang has ever offered her this much. She wanted his torn skin pressed to hers, his lips on her mouth and her breasts; she wanted to feel him shudder, cry out while he came inside her; she wanted him close, just him, and she wanted Aang to know he wasn't alone.

So to ask her, immediately, what now?

What _now_?

'I don't know.'

'You don't care?'

'No,' she snaps. Then, all her defences die away, and she sneers, 'Actually, _yeah_. I don't care.'

And she knows he's hurt tremendously.

'Well,' he says softly, 'At least you're honest.'

The fact he is being so _calm_ about this _infuriates_ her immensely. 'Fucking Hell, Aang.' She wants to claw off her face, he's _that_ annoying. 'There are plenty more fish in the sea. Besides, I thought I made it obvious how I feel. We fucked, and that's it. Stop looking into it so much, and get _over_ yourself. It doesn't mean anything.'

'It means a lot to me,' Aang replies, still calm, still gentle. 'You said _once_.'

'Eh?'

'You told me, before, that we could only have sex once. Obviously you changed your mind, and that's fine – it really is. I mean, I'm flattered, really, but – if it didn't mean anything to you, then surely you would have walked away at the slightest opportunity.'

She remembers all too well. His breath, hot on her lips, and her _throbbing_ for him to _touch_ her. Damn it, she would have said _anything_ , they were both so fragile. But he's right. She didn't leave. He had her more than once, and that _does_ mean something.

Aang has won. Whatever battle this is supposed to be, he's won.

It frightens her how much power he has.

How _right_ he is.

Fuck him. Fuck this. Toph clenches her jaw, in some wasted attempt not to show any signs of emotion, but who is she kidding?

'I–' her voice catches, and she recoils, 'I'm _sorry_ , I–' and she's _not_ sorry. Not one _bit_. She's furious. She is raging at him. 'You don't get to do that. _That_ – assuming what I'm thinking, thinking you _know_ anything about me – _no_ , Aang, that is _not_ how this works. Believe it or not, you don't know everything, and you know _fuck all_ about me. I came here because I was worried about my friend, and, yeah, y'know what? I would've done just about anything for you to get a _fucking_ grip. Literally _anything_. You wanna know the real laugh? I still would. You think you're lonely? Try some perspective, Twinkletoes, and you'll find most of us are. Just some of us cope with it better.'

'Am I wrong, then?'

'No,' she gasps. 'I don't know why it matters anymore, but even when I said just once, I – I knew what would happen. I'm not a fucking idiot. Whatever you're after, though, I can't give you that, and that's something you really need to drill into that thick skull of yours.'

The fact she thinks so little of herself breaks his heart. 'Toph,' he whispers, braces himself, and then: 'You've given me so much – more than you know, and I think, especially after everything, I'm just afraid I will lose you–'

It stings. It stings because she feels the exact same way.

She panics. 'Stop it. _Stop_.' Toph pauses. _Calm down_. She unclenches her fists, loosens her shoulders. This isn't a war, as much as it feels like one. Aang doesn't get to talk about feelings, and he doesn't get to talk about fear, and _losing each other_. 'Don't you _dare_ start with that kind of _shit_. Losing me or not, that's out of your control, and it's something you need to accept. But if you really need the assurance, then I'm not going anywhere.'

 _Not yet_ , he can hear her think.

Aang inhales sharply, closing his eyes. 'All right. I'm sorry. I'll stop.' A beat. 'I'm not going anywhere, either.' She can act as if she didn't need to hear that, but he can _feel_ her relief. 'Go,' he mutters. 'You can _go_ , and I promise not to stay here forever. Like you need time, so do I. Besides, I have to help finish Republic City, and–' _I'm the Avatar_. 'Well.' He steps over towards her, head heavy on his shoulders, and he's beautiful.

Just beautiful.

'I get it,' Toph replies. 'Maybe the distraction will do you good. Give you something to–' and Aang kisses her then, because he's tired of waiting, and too scared this may be his last chance.

Except it all derails, and she kisses him back, and his hands are on her again, his tongue searingly hot and moist in her mouth, and he moans quietly, just wishing, _wanting_ this, wanting them, because suddenly, _yes_ – he realises how this is all too good to be true.

Urgently he grips onto her clothes, shoving her into his body, and he's warm, firm and tender; tragically fragile, already beginning to tremble and gasp and _search_ –

They could fall to the floor again and it'd all be a repeat of last night, and, _God_ , she _aches_ for him. How they _need_ each other closer, to the point of suffocation, it doesn't matter. It doesn't _have_ to matter, and she can feel his hands moving to her face to lock her against him, and a familiar excitement rushes down from her abdomen and she _can't_.

'Gotta go,' she yanks out of his embrace, and Aang doesn't fight. He stands there, useless, yet knowing this would happen. She has to run away before it all gets too much, and fear shocks him whole. He looks at her, and he has no idea when they'll next meet. If ever. Toph catches her breath, somehow able to hide every crushing thought in her head. 'Just – _try_ and remember what I've told you. _Okay_?'

'I hear you. So long as you do the same.'

And it doesn't surprise him how she, too, is another crisis. Perhaps wisely, she departs in a hurry, and he's left, a lost boy, and he already misses her.

Misses her so much, his lungs _burn_.


	10. 10

**10.**

* * *

A year passes. For Aang, it is another decade.

Republic City is finished. Young families arrive with joyous expectations, and Aang observes cheerfully. Lord Zuko aids him on welcoming the new inhabitants, however neither speak much to one another. Without a doubt, Aang is proud of their achievement. To bring all the elements together, to have created a Nation which openly accepts any background, it is one of the greatest accomplishments he has made as the Avatar.

But it isn't for him. Aang can't recall the last time he ever dedicated himself to something, for his own sake. And that's okay. He can live with that. As the Avatar, he doesn't have a choice. Building a Nation of his own, joining people together, creating harmony – that's all he wants. If he dies alone, without children, or a partner to hold him, then, at least, he will have created peace. That is his duty first and foremost.

Everything else doesn't matter.

'Would you have married Katara?'

Aang smiles at Zuko, and shakes his head. That question he's expected for a while, and Zuko says it so out-of-the-blue. At the wrong moment. The wrong time. When Aang is anything but himself, and can't really _talk_.

'No,' he replies. 'Not in this lifetime, anyway.'

'You okay?'

But Zuko knows. Something is wrong, and something has been wrong for too long.

'Tired. Mind if I call it a day?'

Zuko frowns, unconvinced. 'Sure. The Palace has many rooms to choose from, so you're welcome to take your pick.'

'Thanks.'

Sleep doesn't come easy. The very second Aang's head hits the pillow, he collapses into his dreams. And they're tiresome. His mind manifests voices and faces he has experienced before, and they are phenomena he knows all too well.

Aang exclaims. Subconsciously grabs the sheets and _tugs_. He can see him, as clear as day. A man, a spider, creeping down to meet him, to taunt him, to _grin_. Ah, fool. Idiot. _You let her go again_. He cackles and he laughs, and Aang can't get away. Koh reaches out with his long hands, grabs him, strokes his head, and reminds him over and over–

 _You've lost her before_.

There is a woman, with long, brown hair; brown eyes, a smile: Ummi. And then a man, desperate and heartbroken: Kuruk, and Aang can see his agony. He can _feel_ it. To lose her. To lose her all over again. In his dream, Aang drops to his knees and _begs_ Koh to stop taunting him.

Because he knows. He knows they should _never_ have kissed, they should never have made love, and, _yes_ , he's a fool. A lovesick, pathetic man who can't _cope_.

Aang jolts awake. The sheets are drenched in his sweat, and he pants, gasping for oxygen. In his mind, again and again, he tries to convince himself – it's all just a dream. But it's not. This is real. Toph may be the recinarntaed soul of a lost lover, but what Aang _feels_ , what he fears – so terrified of losing her once more – those emotions are true.

He abandons the bed. Steps out of his room. The Palace is huge, but, over time, Aang has grown accustomed to its large space. He can make his way around without asking for directions. A maid walks by him, but apart from she, the Palace is empty. Aang sighs, dressed only in a loose-fitted robe, proceeding down a hall.

What he needs, he doesn't know, but air is one of them.

Outside the Palace doors, the garden can't be seen due to the lack of light. Aang can still smell the flowers, though. The fresh grass. Its openness. Hands behind his back, he stands on the step leading into the building. Inhales. Exhales. But he can't rid of those faces, those things he experienced, and he knows he can't let them go.

Every night, he will dream about Koh, Kuruk and Ummi.

Since Toph left him, that's all he's been able to dream about. As if to remind him–

But Toph isn't Ummi. They are two completely different people. Fate is cruel that they meet again, but Toph is her own person, and she is not destined to die like Ummi. So Aang can _breathe_ , and understand that she isn't leaving him. Except, since they parted ways, he hasn't been able to stop thinking about her. He _misses_ her.

Even now, after a year, thinking about what they had done in the Eastern Temple. How she looked, the way she sounded, how wonderful she felt against him. Aang swallows, a familiar tightening growing below his groin, and he shakes his head roughly.

He wonders if she's over him. If she's moved on.

Toph was supposed to aid him on the birth of Republic City, but he's lost all contact with her. Not to his surprise, she had left completely. Toph has this habit of abandoning everybody around her, and searching for somewhere new. Starting again. When things get too scary, too emotional, when she starts to feel vulnerable, she has to runaway.

The police force said she had simply quit. No excuse. Where she had gone, they didn't know, and so Aang was left in the dark.

Should he have confessed? When they were alone in the Temple, should Aang have grabbed her, told her–

 _I–_

 _I love–_

Aang opens his eyes. Somebody has come out to see him. Changed their mind, and turned away.

He recognises their presence intimately.

Heart in his mouth, Aang turns. 'Katara?'

It will always take him by surprise. How beautiful she is with her hair down, the warmth of her eyes, and how, even after everything, she still smiles at him as if he's an angel. Aang's breath catches, and he softens his expression.

'You don't have to leave,' he says.

'I didn't want to disturb you.'

'You're–no, I'm–Can you stay?'

Katara blinks, says softly, 'Yeah.'

For a while, she does just that. Stays. She waits for Aang to calm down, to ease himself from whatever traumatised him enough to step out here. Aang has always found Katara to be soothing; she _eases_ him more than anybody else.

It takes him a moment to realise this is the first time in a while since they've spoken. The day they broke up was the last time they saw each other. And that was so long ago now. Aang realises she's nervous, and it shocks him to find he is as well. They never discussed their separation, how they were, what they had done since then.

Aang cuddles her. He closes the gap between them, and cuddles her close. She's home. Somewhere he belongs, and he buries his face into the crook of her neck while she holds him. Neither have to say anything. She knows. She knows he's sorry for the way things ended between them, and she knows he's hurt – and _who_ hurt him.

'What happened?'

Aang sighs, tightening their embrace. He scrunches his eyes shut.

'I think I've made a mistake.'

Now, he can feel Katara shaking. She's upset. Upset for Aang, upset for Toph; upset they've _caused pain_ to each other. And it angers her too. Because the world is just _obsessed_ in harming people, making people cry, making people fall to their knees and _bleed_ –

So why do her two best friends have to do this to each other?

Why? What's the point?

Damn it, they've been through _enough_.

'How?'

'I think–' he retreats slightly, and she's able to look at his face, at his tired eyes, his _age_. But he's been thinking so much, too much, and what does it matter what he thinks? Aang has done enough thinking. He needs to live a life where he doesn't think at all. Where he does what he wants to without the consequences, where loving another person doesn't have to be so _impossible_. 'I've lost somebody, and I can't have them again.'

Katara looks away briefly. 'This _is_ Toph.'

And they know what she's like. They know she doesn't do attachment. She doesn't like to be made vulnerable. She doesn't like talking about her own emotions. She would much rather ignore them completely, and pretend all is okay with the world, when it's not.

It's really fucking not, and now Aang is _slipping_ –

'Did you–? Have you–?'

 _Did you both let your guard down? Have you both slept together?_

 _Did you_ _ **show**_ _her how you felt?_

 _And, did she do the same?_

'Yes,' Aang breathes.

'Aang,' she tries, 'I'm only saying this because I love you, and I don't want you to hope too much, but she's–'

'It's not–' words fail him. He stares at her, utterly helpless. Oh. _Oh, no_. No, no, no, he can't get emotional over this, over _her_. 'That isn't what this is about.' But it is. He is hoping. He's hoping, out of some miracle, Toph might realise her own stupidity and change her mind. That she might, somehow, want him. Aang exhales, lowering his head, 'But, Katara – she _wouldn't_. After everything, she can't just–' he jars his teeth, hard enough for them to shatter, '– _leave me_.'

Katara nearly _winces_ at his naivety.

She presses her lips together, looking at him as if he were the dumbest, most lovely boy in the world.

'You know,' she holds her breath, 'This isn't the first time she's done this.'

'I–yeah.'

'I love her, too. And she–' Katara steps back, out of frustration. Frustration for Aang, but frustration over Toph for being who she is. '–she's _selfish_ , and you know _why_ she's selfish, Aang. It's just how she copes, and we can't blame her for that. But, you can't–she's _not_ who you want her to be. You can't force that responsibility on her.'

Aang is struck. He needs a moment to just _realise_.

Toph said once. That they be together once, and he agreed, and he–

Once isn't enough. He wants more than once. He wants every night, every morning. He wants arguments, and the paradox of their love. He wants her. He's always wanted her, even without knowing it. Without her, what is he? Without her, he wouldn't be the Avatar. He saw her, loved her, before he _met_ her.

Aang blushes a deep shade of scarlet.

'I've missed you.'

His confession doesn't necessarily reflect his true emotions, but having Katara to help him make sense of everything, to help him know – _Toph was never his to lose_.

The fact tears him apart.

'I've missed you too, Aang.'

'Sorry I never–' his voice breaks. Aang swears. _Shit_. He's falling. 'I'm sorry I didn't see you sooner.'

'Yeah, I'm sorry too.'

'I couldn't. I couldn't face you, and then Toph–' he stops.

Then Toph. He deliberately sought her after Katara. He just wanted to see her. Not for anything in particular. Just a friend who would slap some sense into him, and he never thought things would end up like this.

Toph. Damn it. Fuck her.

Fuck her for ruining him. For kissing him, for fucking him, for holding him, for just–

Making it so easy to fall in love with her.

His eye twitches. Has she done this before with other men and women? An absurd rush of jealousy crashes through him, and he makes a sincere effort to ignore it.

Then he stops. Ceases. No. No, he won't think about that, won't think about _her_ that way. He won't be a child and retaliate like only a child would. He's Aang, and he's the Avatar, and Toph would never mean to _hurt_ him.

Katara kisses the corner of his mouth. Just there. Just one.

'I'm no better either,' she admits. 'Zuko and I had become very close, and I felt–' _like shit for doing that to you_ , '–you needed your space. I guess I'm sorry–I'm sorry things ended the way they did.' Aang looks at her, brow raised. 'Between you two.'

'Yeah?' He twitches a smile. 'Thanks, Katara.'

'..w–what, why? What for?'

'I dunno. Being patient with me all this time. Not leaving me. I don't know, I just–you mean so much to me, and I was scared we wouldn't have been able to reconcile the damage. If that makes sense.'

'Aang,' she rolls her eyes, 'Of course we would.'

'I just can't tell how long this is going to take.'

Losing Toph, losing what he had with Katara, and he dreads to know what is next.

How long will it take for him to move on?

If ever.

'Give it time,' Katara whispers, 'Give _her_ time.'


	11. 11

**11.**

* * *

The spirit world truly sucks. Or, what little she's been privileged to endure is. Gnarled trees, darkness, roots extending into the sky, and a heavy mist, clouding the terrifying lair.. Bizarre creatures, or spirits even, float around her; some are small, others as large as the trees.

But what troubles her more is the fact she can't sense anything. Her Seismic Senses are rendered useless, and her Earthbending no longer exists.

Sight is a difficult thing to adapt to. She really didn't know the world was so colourful; the thousands of textures, shapes, shades. It all feels different. And she feels vulnerable. Completely open. The possession of sight has put her at a disadvantage; it's made her anxious and irritable. The spirit world has given her what she never had, and she's currently living her very worst nightmare.

Deep below, the lair extends, an unforgiving, threatening, and incredibly tempting force beckoning her in. She proceeds further into the lair, because she doesn't have a choice, because she's supposed to, because she knows all too well why she's here. It grows darker, damper, quiet. No signs of life, and it's cold.

Freezing.

Then she realises it isn't freezing at all; she's just scared.

She can hear him – _it_. His hands, crawling the cave walls, the stench of his breath; and a voice she recognises intimately. Now it makes sense. Now she knows exactly where she is, except the memory of it all feels apart from her true self. As if it's a memory she's automatically blocked; as if it's a memory from another person entirely, which she's unfortunately borrowed.

'Oh, _finally_.'

Toph turns to the voice, and her face falls.

The other face stares back at her, smiling, studying her, waiting, hoping Toph will crack, and let all of her emotions come _pouring_ through–

'You know this is a dream, right?' He purrs, 'Whatever emotions you show me, it won't matter. None of this matters. You'll wake up, warm in your bed, and everything will be exactly the same. You can be _honest_ with me.'

She can see him, his ugliness, his cruel patience, wanting her to _crack_.

'I'd rather play safe.'

'It isn't often I have visitors. You must have been _dying_ to see me in order for us to meet.'

'What can I say? You've been on my mind. It's actually annoying. If there's any way to get rid of you, then hopefully this is _it_.'

'Hm, I do love a special reunion with old friends.'

Toph's heart skips a beat. 'I didn't know you could enter the spirit world simply by dreaming.'

'You've dreamt about me before. Many times,' he crawls along the walls, and she follows him, watches him, almost fascinated. 'I guess your precious Avatar didn't tell you every trick in the book. At least you found it out yourself.' He chuckles, and leans forward, his face inches from hers. 'Only _after_ breaking his pretty little heart.'

She restrains herself from laughing. 'Nice try.'

'I have no hard feelings against you. Nor did I before. You don't mean any harm.'

'Before?'

'You think it's wise to play dumb with me?' His face shrinks back, contorts, 'Fine. How about you both meet face-to-face? After _all_ this time?' Admittedly, Toph feels anxious, uncertain about this prospect, but she doesn't tear her gaze away.

The face is just as she imagined. Ummi looks straight back at her, face gentle, apologetic, and almost motherly. Toph shows nothing. She says nothing, because surely these ideas Aang has had, that Toph might just be the reincarnated self of this woman, are false. They look nothing alike, act nothing alike.

But she can't deny what she's feeling. As much as rationality, or denial, convinces her otherwise, they _do_ know each other.

'I think you should have him,' she – it – says, 'Before it's too late.'

'I don't want him. For the record, _nothing_ will happen.'

'I wouldn't be so sure of that,' Ummi sighs, 'Loving the Avatar always ends in catastrophe. He'll die soon, but he'll die sooner if he's alone; if his life no longer holds meaning to him.'

'That's not my problem.'

'Yes, it is. It's _solely_ your problem. You've made it your problem.'

Toph _nearly_ loses her cool. Miraculously, she manages to hold her ground and not express any emotion. 'I'm not making the same mistake as you did. Trusting him. You do realise it's his fault you lost your life.'

'What would you have become, if he didn't find you?'

Worthless. Still sneaking into contests to earn prizes, and living under a different name. Hiding away, because, as far as her parents were concerned, nobody would give her the time of day. Then there was Aang who cared little about her blindness, and just wanted her, as his teacher, as his friend.

She won't give Ummi the satisfaction of being right. 'I'd have coped either way–'

'Why did you come here, if not for answers?'

'I _didn't_ come here. This is–' _a dream_. Toph fell asleep, she woke up here, that's all there is to it. 'Don't flatter yourself. You're the last person I'd come to for advice. You ruined the rest of your life over a man – that makes you weak. So, your opinion has little to no value. You're an idiot. You're pathetic. You were so _blind_ out of your love for him, that you were willing to do _anything_ for him, and _that_ I find unbelievable.'

'And look what that blindness has done for you, and for him.'

It has brought them together.

In a better life, a much more improved life.

Toph doesn't reply.

'Don't lose him again.' Ummi's face disappears, and Koh's face returns, watching her curiously. 'I think that'd _really_ break you.' Toph opens her mouth to retort. 'Oh! Careful. You have such a lovely face. One I'd _enjoy_ wearing. Don't tempt me.'

'I'd love to see you try and take it.'

'And how will you defend yourself? Your Bending is gone, you have no weapons. Just your _little_ self.' He looms in, practically pressing his face to hers, and she doesn't _budge_. 'Hm, he'd be proud of you. You're making such a beautiful effort. But where is your limit?' Toph watches his face mutate again, 'If you don't care about the Avatar at all, like you claim, then does it matter who I turn into?'

Then, for the first time in her life, she can see Aang.

He looks younger than she imagined. He has a rounder face, sharper eyes, and she didn't picture him to appear so–

 _Kind_.

Kindness is what he is. He's soft, sweet, and kind, and his eyes protect a history of misery, disappointment, heartbreak, the sheer need to be _wanted_.

The tattoo, large and blue, drags down his skull, down his neck. He looks at her, pleading, and Koh will succeed at any second–

She breathes, maintaining her composure. The amount she's feeling, how happy and saddened and _shocked_ she feels, seeing his face, seeing _him_ , when it's been so _long_ –

Toph says, 'I prefer the original.'

'Shame,' Koh's face returns, and he's amused, 'I really thought I had you there.'

'For a second, so did I. Guess you'll just have to try harder, eh?'

'He must be special to you.'

Toph blinks, letting that word sink in – _special_.

'I don't love him.'

'Funny you say that. Nobody said anything about _love_.'

Koh laughs, and the sound is piercing.

' _Sweet dreams_.'

 **.**

 **.**

 **.**

Waking up is the worst part. It's the denial first – she can't possibly be dreaming about something so ridiculous, so vivid. The fact her head can conjure up such grotesque images. None of it can be true.

It's been a year since she last spoke to Aang, and his suspicions on their past lives has somehow crept into her thoughts. She can't accept that what he's predicting has any plausibility behind it, but she's _never_ dreamt about _that_ before. Never pictured Koh, this hideous, spider-like insect,, his face right up against hers. And _her_ face, Ummi's, is haunting.

She blames Aang, because it's easier to blame Aang than to accept the reality.

Throwing off the sheets, Toph gives up on sleeping, and prepares for the day.

 **.**

 **.**

 **.**

Most of her travels have been alone. Which is what she wanted. Aang had started to feel claustrophobic. They were around each other too much, they enjoyed each other too much; it made her uncomfortable. Isolation seemed like the best route. To abandon the connections she made back home, and explore whatever else is out there.

It was _good_. That's the worst she'd use to describe the past year. Good.

But overrated.

Work isn't easy to find, especially when one is blind and doesn't have much to show. And it's not as if she can't show off the fact she saved the world as a child. So, Toph resorted to simpler methods to attain money. Her Earthbending is unique, and her Metalbending is practically unheard of universally.

It only made sense that she show off her Bending instead. And people _loved_ it. She entered tournaments frequently, located in different corners of the world, gathering fans and eager students.

She never thought she'd like it, but teaching isn't as painful as it was with Aang. Most of her students were around her age, anyway, and experienced. With Aang, he had been completely new to Earthbending, and, quite frankly, he was bad at it. To train students who are genuine Earthbenders, and who learn speedily – it's fun, she might even love it, but she was just incapable of staying in one place.

Nowhere suited her. Or, nowhere _deserved_ her. Maybe Toph is picky, or has high expectations, or impossible standards, but she's a hard woman to please, whom demands a lot. It took a lot of hard work to get to where she is now – it only makes sense she be rewarded for that effort.

Then there are the dreams. They come and go. Like an illness.

They _frighten_ her, which only makes them more discomforting. Toph doesn't scare easily, and the fact her own imagination can turn against her, and create these _weird figures_ just freaks her out. It makes sleeping hard. It makes sleeping the worst part of the day. Sometimes, she'd rather avoid it altogether.

Aang has become this _constant_. This memory, this face, this feeling she can't brush off. She's been with people before, and it's never problematic to _forget about them_. People are disposable, people don't matter unless you want them to. Sex is sex. As far as Toph is concerned, there's no attachment or commitment involved when it comes to sex.

But Aang was… _nice_. Having sex with him was _nice_ , and heavy, and easy, and intense. Although he isn't the most experienced lover, he had a decent idea on what to do. And she liked being with him. She liked the fact he could satisfy her, which is rare. Close to impossible, actually. But he just _knew_. Timid as he was, Aang kissed her and touched her and fucked her so beautifully, he made it almost like art.

Son of a bitch. _Damn it_. Her life would be much _easier_ if Aang didn't decide to intervene.

With Aang, though, it isn't just the sex. It's _being around him_. Being in his company. Being noticed by him. His attention on her _feels_ good. It matters to her, as much as she hates to accept that. He's comfortable, he's soft, he's sweet. He _gets_ her, and he gets her blindness, and he gets her Earthbending, and he gets the fact that, sometimes, _he_ can be a little overwhelming. He gets her, and he–

– _wants_ her.

Aang made it perfectly clear how he felt, what he wanted.

And those very emotions have somehow corrupted her thoughts.

 **.**

 **.**

 **.**

'Toph? Is that you?'

'Well, unless you have another blind friend with fabulous looks, then, yeah: it's Toph, you nut.'

Sokka's face falls blunt. 'Right. Just – it's been a while!' He steps aside so Toph can enter his home. 'Suki isn't in; she's been away on Kyoshi Island for a couple of weeks now.'

'Oh,' Toph doesn't hide her disappointment. She walks inside. 'I was hoping to talk to _her_ actually.'

'You're stuck with me.' Sokka closes the door. 'I thought you'd visit sooner. Aang and Zuko have finished with Republic City. They think I might have a job, but there's still work to be done, so I don't know yet.' He frowns at Toph's lack of response. Clearly something is on her mind, and it's becoming a nuisance. 'Are you okay?'

Making herself at home, Toph shoves off her jacket, and literally flings herself onto the nearest chair. Travelling can be fun, but also exhausting. Toph is starting to get bored with the whole _walking everyday for miles on end_ deal. It almost makes her miss the agonisingly tedious office work.

'No,' she replies.

Sokka rolls his eyes. He knows her well enough to tell when she's lying. Besides, Toph wouldn't _willingly_ approach a friend, unless there was a problem. The fact Toph was seeking Suki perhaps implies she required a little girl-on-girl talk, which meant–

'Boy problems?'

'What the _fuck_? Who d'you take me for?'

'There's no need to get defensive!' Sokka grins. 'But you kinda proved me right with that overreaction.'

Toph opens her mouth to retort, and then just _can't be bothered_. 'Whatever,' she mumbles.

Sokka raises a brow. Grabs a chair, and slides it over to sit in front of her. 'Go on, then. Talk. Open up. How are you _feeling_?'

'Okay, please stop, because you're creeping me out and– d'you have to sit so _close_?'

'I'm not sitting _that_ close–'

'I can _smell_ your breath, Sokka. Side note: you might want to get that checked.'

Sokka blinks, stunned. He exhales into his palm, and sniffs. As far as _he's_ concerned, his breath smells perfectly fine. 'O- _kay_ ,' he clears his throat. 'So, we've established it's a guy, not a girl. He's clearly upset you.'

'Not upset.'

'Fine, um… _discomforted_ you…?'

Toph sighs heavily. 'Yeah, let's try that one.'

'Which means they matter to you,' Sokka leans back, arms folded. 'Hm.' Tilts his head, studying her deadpan expression. ' _Hm_.'

'You could just _ask_ me.'

'I–well, _yeah_ , I know, but–'

'You recall the good old days when Katara and Aang were rubbing hips every second?'

Sokka snorts. 'I wouldn't call them _good_. A whole Nation _was_ tryna kill us. Anyway, I remember.'

'Right. Then, shortly after, that didn't last?'

'Okay. Yeah, I–I _know_.'

'Well, Katara decided to run off with the Fire Princess, and Aang, um, _didn't_.'

Sokka pulls a face. 'Is this turning into a riddle or…?'

'I slept with Aang.'

'Oh. _Oh_.' Sokka lets that sink in. Aang and Toph. Toph and Aang. Then, to the surprise of both Sokka and Toph, he isn't that surprised. 'Huh. I don't really know what I'm supposed to say here, but I gotta ask, was it just a rebound thing?'

'I wish it was.'

'How do you feel about the situation?'

'I don't like that question.'

'Okay. Um, how did you, uh, _react_ to being with Aang?'

'Basically, I decided to travel far, far away from him and anybody who's so much as associated to him. I needed space. He's suffocating. But I've been having these whacky dreams lately, and they're driving me crazy. And I know it's all Aang's fault. And what I want–I want to confront him and give him shit for making me dream about this face-stealer, who apparently stole my face in a past life, according to Aang–'

'Whoa, holy shit, you lost your _face_?!'

'No, _I_ didn't, but… forget it. That's not important. I just – fuck. Sokka, how did you know Suki was right for you?' Before Sokka can reply, Toph interrupts, 'No, don't answer that. This is why I wanted to talk to Suki.'

'So you could ask her how she knew _I_ was right for her?'

'Pretty much, _chyeah_.'

'Thanks, that's really sweet.' Sokka shrugs. 'All right. Well, I know you don't really care, but I'll tell you how I knew. And the fact is I didn't immediately. I was still hung up over somebody else, and, to be honest, I thought Suki was _way_ out of my league. I mean, a girl, like _her_ , to want a loser like me? I didn't believe it at first. So, to begin with, it was my own self-esteem which stopped me from thinking we could be together.'

'Great.'

'But I was so caught up in how _I_ was feeling about how she thought of me, to actually find out the truth. Turns out, she felt the same way. I knew she was right for me because, in some ways I am a bit of a loser, but, to her, that wasn't a flaw, it was something she _liked_. I feel _myself_ around her. Like, I'm safe – it doesn't matter how vulnerable I am, she just – _accepts_ me. That's how you know, I guess. If you're comfortable together. If you trust each other, and feel safe being open and vulnerable, then, that's it.'

Aang has made her feel that: open, vulnerable, close to _fragile_. And he, too, has been the exact same. He's _poured out his heart_ in front of her, had to collapse to his knees in all his heartache. He trusted her to be open to, to confess to.

They've seen each other in ways nobody else has. And that's what Sokka means. To have that with somebody, that intense connection with another soul, it's just not worth losing. Because that's when you know that person is right for you. When you can _trust_ them. When you can place your heart in their hands, and trust them not to _break_ it.

Sokka twitches a smile. 'Does that make sense?'

'Unfortunately, yes.' Toph groans, and pinches the bridge of her nose. 'Well, now that's been established.' She rolls back her shoulders, grimacing at the very prospect of having to meet Aang again. And not just meet him, but be _honest_ with him. 'Now what?'

'I think you know the answer to that.'

* * *

 **Note** : On ao3, I have posted a Toph/Aang fic, which I can't post on FF.N mainly due to formatting issues.

To view the story, then please go to my ao3 account. My username is dustywings (just type that and "ao3" into Google, and I should show up.)  
The story is titled "Thief".

Until next time!


	12. 12

**12.**

* * *

Perhaps the most fortunate thing is that nobody speaks to the media. Nobody speaks to the media because nobody really knows what they're doing. Aang, especially. The formation of Republic City was a fantastic idea on paper. However, practically, the demand has been overwhelmingly frustrating. Money is one crucial problem. Then, finding workers, engineers and mechanics; people who genuinely want to help.

Having good connections with the Fire Lord has its benefits. Zuko has enlisted thousands of his civilians to help the Avatar – after all, the building of Republic City is offering jobs to those who don't have any. It's a temporary position, but it promises a reward.

Yet, there are still those who disprove of the idea. Aang wants Republic City in order to bring all the Bending elements together, to live under the same roof, to reconcile the damage of the past, and not everybody agrees that this is such a grand idea.

It isn't just Fire Benders who are having qualms about this, either. Aang has received a lot of backlash, sometimes violent. People insist that it isn't his duty to make everybody get along with each other. Sometimes, tension needs to be valued. In an ideal world, yes, every person in the world would see each other as an ally. But what Aang wants is too soon. It only feels like yesterday when The Fire Nation attacked.

Toph thinks those kinds of people are ridiculous, and she couldn't care less about their thoughts. To be honest, Aang's progress so far is extremely impressive. Roads have been built, homes; and food and water is easily accessible. The city is already developing without Aang's assistance.

A steel bridge is being built nearby. She can hear the _clang_ of metal, the strain as workers try to lift the heavy material. Toph smiles crookedly. She can't resist. She's been sitting here for the past ten minutes, listening to the struggle, and it'd be mad of her not to help. Besides, any excuse to show off.

The sound of awe hits her ears when she Metalbends, manipulating the metal to fold and fit in the right place. The workers just stand and stare, jaws open, amazed somebody so _small_ could be so strong. Amused, Toph abandons her work momentarily, and steps towards them: 'What are you doin'? We just gonna stand here and hope the job does itself?' And that's it. As if she were their own commanding officer, they immediately get back to work, a Metalbender now on their side.

It doesn't take long due to Toph's intervention. The bridge is sturdy, and Toph double checks to make sure it's stable and won't break at the slightest bit of weight. As she expects, the bridge is perfect. Relieved to have the remainder of the day to themselves, the workers thank her, ask for her name, wonder if she'll be assisting with the restoration of Republic City from hereon.

Toph refuses to answer that question. Frankly, she didn't come here in order to help.

'Hang on,' someone says. 'I _know_ you.'

Toph turns to the voice. She doesn't recognise him. He speaks gently, voice like velvet, and it's a pleasing sound. 'Eh?'

'You're Toph Beifong. The most powerful Earthbender in the world! I've heard so many stories about you. Sorry, where are my manners? I'm Satoru.'

'Oh. Hi.'

'I'm, uh, actually an engineer from the Fire Nation. However, the Avatar had requested as much help as possible, so I, of course, dropped everything. I must say, I certainly wasn't expecting to meet you here.'

Toph folds her arms, frowning. 'Funny you say that. I'm friends with the Avatar. You suggesting I wouldn't help him every now and again?'

'No, no, I don't mean it that way. It's just – we haven't seen you around. Ever.'

'I've been busy.'

'Mhmm, I'm sure. Sorry. I don't mean to be rude.'

Toph studies him. How he stands, where he leans most of his weight; his pulse is slightly faster than usual, which implies he's nervous. Toph imagines he's only a little older than her, and he's clearly a non-Bender. Fire Benders are light on their feet, like Airbenders; they move as if they were dancers, and this boy doesn't mirror that.

And he _likes_ her – and it's not the kind of _like_ Aang threw at her, but it's much more gradual. It's calmer. He likes her, and doesn't plan to make an effort to _show_ that. He's polite, level-headed, and nice. Toph hasn't forgotten she's travelled all this way to see Aang, to finally talk to him, but there's no harm in killing a few hours.

Besides, she has a soft spot for non-Benders.

'You haven't been rude.' She shrugs. 'So, what kinda stories have you heard?'

'Oh, all sorts.' He chuckles. 'I guess it's tricky to figure out which ones are true, and which ones are completely fabricated.'

'I'm here now, aren't I? Ask away.'

They sit a few metres from the bridge, and she listens to him. He was supposed to _ask_ her which stories were factual, but Satoru kind of just got lost in the stories themselves. Which, she has to admit, is quite sweet. While talking about one of many stories as to how Toph achieved her Metalbending, he pulls out a bottle of water from his bag, and takes a mouthful, before rinsing his hair.

Sighing happily, he leans back, and moves onto the assumptions of how and when Toph deserted her family. 'I imagine this is a touchy subject. I can stop if you like?'

'Nah, it's okay. I just had no idea people told stories about me.'

'Yeah! All the time. You and the Avatar, mostly. It makes me laugh, because…' He clears his throat, 'Well, it's none of my business, but people started to wonder if you two were an item.'

Toph laughs, ignoring how anxious the rumour makes her feel. 'He wishes. If you're asking, then _no_ , we're not.'

'Heh. That's a relief. I wouldn't want to step on anybody's toes.'

Eager to change the topic, Toph returns to the one regarding her family. 'I left my parents when I was a kid. For a whole load of reasons, but I don't think _deserted_ is the correct word. I only moved away. I had to.'

'What happened?'

'They were too protective. Let's just put it that way.'

'And so you left?'

'I suppose Aang helped with that. He was pretty much the first person who didn't see me for my blindness. He needed me to train him, so I did.'

'Oh. How did that go?'

She shrugs carelessly. 'There was a lot of rock throwing, our friend got stuck in a hole, but, yeah, it worked out.'

'I guess storytelling isn't your forté.' Toph raises a brow at that remark. Satoru smiles. 'That wasn't a complaint, by the way. It's refreshing, actually, not to talk to somebody who only listens to their voice.' It's a bizarre compliment. Similar to when Aang stressed the need to have a teacher who listened, before they struck. Toph _is_ a good listener. 'So, if you didn't come here to assist – which, can I just say, it'd be awesome if you stayed – then what's your purpose here?'

'That's not for you to worry about.' She playfully hits him on the arm. 'C'mon, your turn. What fabricated stories about yourself do you have to tell?'

He grins, 'Um, well I'm not as famous as you are, so, uh, _none_.'

'Damn. Guess you'll have to stick with the truth.'

Toph is conscious of him shuffling a little closer, and she's also conscious of the fact she's _okay_ with that. Satoru happily reveals about himself. An engineer from the Fire Nation, only just recently finishing his internship, and he even has a promotion around the corner. Whenever his boss is absent, it's up to him to manage the staff, and ensure everything is done efficiently.

Admittedly, he says, if it weren't for his parents being enthusiastic engineers too, he probably wouldn't have learnt as much as he did. Which brings him onto the fact he's close to his family, always has been. He has a sibling, a brother, who's younger than him, from another marriage. Sometimes, they argue, but usually not; they's good friends. And it's all magical in her mind.

Too perfect. She didn't realise people like this existed.

'What about your family?'

Toph is about to remind him she left them – but she left them for what? For _who_?

For Aang, she abandoned her family, and her family isn't necessarily her blood-ties. When she considers her family, Katara, Sokka and Suki come to mind. And Aang is definitely family, but, as of late, things have been so complicated with him, she doesn't know where he should be filed.

Family don't do what they did to each other, the amount of pain and struggle they forced each other to go through. She left, because she wanted to be far, far away from Aang. In other words, she abandoned him. She had to abandon him, because he was too much. How he made her feel, what he made her do, it was just – _too much_ for one person. Aang didn't just want her for his own, but he wanted to go _further_.

The prospect of family is unnerving. Aang wants just that: a family. He wants the kind of life Satoru seems to enjoy. Where everything falls into place, and he's loved, and, after a dreadful day of work, he can still return home to a _family_ which loves him. Who protect him, keep him safe, make life just a little easier to endure.

'You all right?'

She feels a little guilty to be thinking about Aang, when she's in other company.

'What? Yeah, I'm fine.'

'Okay. You just went silent at my question.'

'Don't really have much of a family to brag about. I've got my friends.'

'I understand. You're a private person.' He exhales. 'I suppose Aang is your family, then?'

'Sure. I don't know. Why?'

Reaching over, Satoru places a hand on her shoulder. 'Just asking.' And that's all he means. He's only curious. Only carefully prying. This boy doesn't want to cause any harm or trouble, and there's no motive behind his actions. He just wants to get to know her, because he _wants_ to. Because here she is, right in front of him, and he's fascinated.

It's interesting to be observed this way. To be held with such awe, and for somebody to listen so intently. Toph doesn't really know how to feel about it, but she isn't going to complain.

'Satoru?'

At that voice, Toph's heart nearly jumps out of her chest. Satoru shoots to his feet. 'Aang! Sorry. I wasn't slacking off, I was just speaking to–'

'Toph?'

 _Shit_. Toph stands, expression dull. 'Hello, Aang.'

Aang can do nothing but stare like an idiot. It's been a whole year. A whole _fucking_ year, and when he finally sees her, she's talking to another man, who just so happens to be one of Aang's best workers.

Something ugly twists in his stomach, and he has to resist scowling at her.

'You weren't slacking off, Satoru. I heard the bridge was built, so I wanted to come along and see for myself.'

'We couldn't have done it without Toph. She came it at just the right time. Thanks to her Metalbending, the bridge was built quickly.'

'Really? Toph helped?'

'Yeah. She was brilliant.'

Aang looks at Toph, who merely shrugs.

'Yeah,' he sighs, glancing back at Satoru. 'She has her moments. I'm glad she's made your acquaintance.'

'Actually,' Toph intervenes, 'I've been asked to help out! Which I'm happy to do.'

'You are?' Satoru beams ear-to-ear. Aang smiles at him, but it quickly drops when Satoru turns to Toph. 'This is so exciting. Republic City will be finished in a heartbeat. Don't you think, Aang?'

'I see no problem with that,' Aang says, and Toph can _feel_ his lies. Aang's presence is so noticeable, so dominant, poor Satoru is nearly forgotten about. She almost hates Aang for doing this. For being _this_ prominent, for completely isolating anybody else from her senses, and making sure that _he_ is the very centre.

But that's stupid, and she knows it. Aang isn't doing this. He can't _make himself_ the centre of her attention.

He just is, because that's how much he means to her.

'Where will you stay, Toph?'

'I have space where I'm at,' Satoru offers. 'I'll, obviously, take the floor.'

'I prefer the floor,' Toph smirks.

'No, that–' Aang stops himself. Satoru blinks at him, confused. 'I don't think that's appropriate.'

'Ha! Who are you, my mother? I'm a big girl, Aang. I'll be fine.'

Now he can't resist scowling, and she's all too aware.

'Whatever you want,' he mutters.

'Is there a problem?' Satoru says, looking between them.

'Twinkletoes is probably feeling extra touchy today. Don't take it personally.'

Aang swallows, hard. 'Toph's right. I've just had a long day. It's nothing.' He forces a smile. 'Anyway, that plan sounds good. You can stay with Satoru, and continue helping with Republic City. I think you're right, Satoru. It should be finished in no time, now that we have the greatest Earthbender alive.'

What makes it worse is that he isn't mocking her. Aang meant every word, and she realises he's not going to fight for her. Once, he might have done, but the year they've spent apart has _changed_ him. He won't fight for her because Aang knows he doesn't stand a chance. Plus, he's no fool. He _knows_ why she left.

Satoru nods, smiling. 'Excellent. Toph, let me show you where I'm staying. Feel free to join us, Aang.'

He only need look at Toph's expression to have an answer. 'Don't worry. I've got things to do, I'm afraid.'

'That's too bad. See you soon, anyway.'

'Yeah. See you.'

Satoru begins walking away. Aang steps forward, trying to catch Toph's attention, but she walks straight past him. Irritated, Aang can do nothing but watch her leave him _again_ , and it's the worst form of betrayal.

The amount of times he's thought about seeing her, what would happen, what would be said.

He just never imagined their reunion be interrupted so harshly.

 **.**

 **.**

 **.**

An array of paperwork, blueprints, random ideas are spread across his desk, the floor, and nothing is organised. Aang drags his hands down his face. When he first arrived at this office, it was perfect; everything was in the right place. All the ideas he had, finally written on paper, are now bogged down beneath other ideas, comments from workers. Building a city is just not as fun as it should be.

Then there are the letters. The hatred he's received, the threats, but also the positive feedback; the excitement and hope that what Aang is doing is something special. It will bring peace between all Nations, finally.

It's getting late. He doesn't know the time, but it's getting late, and he hasn't slept properly in weeks.

Aang tenses when he hears the door open.

Casually as ever, Toph steps inside, expression close to bored. Aang narrows his brows, stern, and before he can ask what she's doing, she says, 'Stinks of unproductively in here. I suppose that's no surprise. It _is_ you.' She grins.

Aang folds his arms. Yes, he's angry. Yes, he's upset. Yes, he has a thousand questions he's desperate to ask her, but– 'How did you find me?'

'Oh, Satoru said you'd be here.

At the mention of him, Aang clenches his fists. 'I'm not in the mood.'

'Tsk. What does that even mean? I can only talk to you when you feel like it?'

'Pretty much, yeah.'

'What a pile of bullshit.'

'You _left_ me, Toph.' He inhales sharply. 'You want to talk about bullshit?' He jars his teeth, glaring at her. 'Let's talk about bullshit. Let's talk about the fact you _left_ me, without saying a word, and I never saw you again for a whole year. A _year_. I had no idea if you were still alive, Toph. _You're_ full of bullshit. Your lies, your deceit, how you've _treated_ me. I thought – y'know, I was so fucking stupid, because I thought you wanted this.'

Something snaps.

Maybe it's the fact they've kept their anger buckled in the whole time. Maybe it's the fact that Aang is being totally unfair, and, no no _fuck no_ , he does not get to talk to her in that manner!

'Get off your high horse, Twinkletoes. You knew my plan – you _knew_ I was going away. Don't act like it happened out of nowhere.'

'But _nothing_? Don't–don't you _get_ what I'm _saying_? You didn't write to me, you–there's been _no_ communication from you whatsoever. You didn't even communicate with Katara. You went on about me deserting all of you seconds before the war. Well, you do the exact same thing. You ran away, you _left_ me, you left me in the dark, because I had no idea where we were, whether I'd done something wrong–'

'Do you know me at all? I don't stay in contact. You just have to trust me. For the record, I _can't_ exactly _write_ you a letter, can I? I always come back. Just because I wanted a break from you, that doesn't mean I owe you a fucking letter, or whatever it is you're trying to demand from me.'

'I'm not demanding! I'm just asking you to…'

'What? Asking me to _what_?'

'Be _human_! Just–just be my _friend_. _Please_. You–damn it, you make me _so_ angry. You can be the most selfish, the most self-centred person in the world! And I can live with that. But at least _consider_ , fuck, just _consider_ how your friends are feeling. So when you do decide to go away for a _year_ , Toph, then consider the fact we might get a little _worried_? I was _scared_ you might have got hurt or–'

'I can handle myself–'

'Exactly!' Aang stops. Breathes. Collapses into his chair, and covers his face with his hands. He won't cry. He won't show her how much she's hurt him. 'I know you can handle yourself. You prefer your own company, and that's fine, but I–' he drops his hands, stares helplessly at the floor. 'I just needed to know you were safe. That I hadn't lost you forever. Do you–do you have any idea how much that would _kill_ me?'

'Aang–'

'That's how I feel.' He looks at her, and he can't imagine how _weak_ he must appear, because, yes, when it comes to Toph, he _is_ weak. He's helpless. He's utterly consumed by how much she makes him feel. 'I don't want to live a life without you in it.' Aang exhales, closes his eyes, and turns away. 'Sometimes, when I'm around you, it's like being buried. You _bury_ me, Toph.'

He falls silent.

Now, it's her turn. Now, it's her turn to confess, but she's silenced.

He has stolen her voice, and she's in _shock_.

'When I saw you with Satoru, I panicked. But I–I've accepted you don't want me. I'm sorry I got jealous. That wasn't fair, and it was certainly not fair to Satoru. He's a nice guy – he's a good person.'

Toph swallows, blinks, finds her voice. 'Um, why are we talking about him?'

'You like him, don't you?'

It's difficult to speak right now, because when she attempts to, her voice is almost unrecognisable. He's _shook_ her, and the emotion is heavy on her lungs, squeezing her throat, and she doesn't know whether she wants to scream or cry or yell at him.

Shouting at each other was easier, because all their feelings poured out, but then Aang had to stop, and calm down, and say _sorry_.

'I don't know. Yeah, he's nice, but I don't really know him. Does it matter?'

'You're staying with him.'

'Aang, I'm not _moving in_ with the guy. I'm sleeping on his floor, or settee – whatever. Point is, I'm not interested. And even if I was, it shouldn't have an effect on _us_.'

'You don't mean that,' Aang whispers. 'You know how I feel about you.'

'Trust me, you don't ever stop going on about your feelings. You gonna ask me how _I_ feel anytime soon?'

He stiffens, afraid of the truth.

'You're right.' He watches her, making no effort to move, or say anything else.

Now the attention is finally on her, on her emotions, on how she _feels_ , Toph doesn't know where to start. She could tell him about the dream, about meeting Koh; she could tell him that Aang has been on her mind every since she left him. She could tell him that whatever he's feeling, she's undoubtedly enduring the same.

But she can't.

She's really _shit_ when it comes to words.

Aang sighs, and smiles, understanding. 'Don't worry. Tell me in your own time.' He stands, rounds the desk. Places a hand on her shoulder, and it slips, down her arm, brushing her wrist briefly. 'Thank you for being here.'

It's hard to breathe. Having him this close, after so long. He's so familiar, so close, so wonderful, and she _misses_ him. But she can't tell him that. She can't let her guard down, and let him see her when she's _fragile_. When she's completely open to him, all her defences gone; when he can hurt her so _easily_.

When she's around Aang, that's when she feels _blind_. Her senses are utterly destroyed, and he _surrounds_ her.

'I've missed you,' he whispers.

'Yeah, I know.'

'I… I'd really like to hear about what you've been doing.'

'Just travelling.' She inhales deeply. 'That's all. I take it you've been here a lot.'

'Pretty much,' he smiles. 'Things are going well, though.'

'Sokka told me.'

'Sokka?'

'I saw him, before I came here.'

'Oh. He, uh– I think I have a position for him in the city.'

'He told me that, too.'

'And you? Are you still interested?'

'I'm your friend. If you trust me with that kind of responsibility, then I'll obviously accept.'

'Thank you.'

Then, his hands slip away. Aang waits. Expecting, nearly hoping, she'll leave.

At least he'll be able to _breathe_ afterwards.

But she's _here_ , and he can't dismiss her as easily as he wishes.

'I'll be here most of the time, just working on stuff, so feel free to pop in. Say hello. If you want.'

This is what it feels like. She remembers. This feeling with Aang where she'll go mad if she can't touch him.

She mutters something, something he doesn't quite catch, and then her arms around the back of his neck, and they're kissing.

Kissing. She's kissing him, and he's kissing her, and they breathe each other in, remembering, falling into each other, and kissing slowly. Softly. They take their time, and she's surprised by how _gentle_ they are. It's always been frantic, rough, everything but _this_. This is too familiar, this is too quiet, this is too delicate.

Aang's holding her around her waist, and dragging her into him, ever so tenderly stroking his hand up her back, down again, twisting his fingers into the fabric of her clothes. He sighs. She can feel him, his heartbeat, pulse, the heat bouncing off his body, his hands pressed into her.

She pushes him carefully, backing him up against the desk, and he groans, and his palm passes her breast, and she can feel he's already hard, and their kisses are getting hotter, a little more urgent, and, yes, yes, this feels so _good_ , but–

When she retreats, he does too, and he needs a moment to catch his breath.

Then: 'This isn't-'

'We shouldn't.'

'No,' Aang is trembling, _needing_ her, but he _won't_. 'You're right.'

He doesn't know why he said that. Because what they have, what that felt like, it was incredible, but it shouldn't have to _be_ this way. They shouldn't be kissing in secret, they shouldn't be touching each other, _daring_ each other to touch.

Aang deserves a love where he can _openly_ be in love, where he isn't in fear of her leaving him in the night. He deserves somebody honest, who genuinely wants to be with him; to share a future with him.

… lately, though, Toph isn't sure what she wants anymore.

She reaches up to kiss him again, and he obliges, but it's too brief.

It takes everything in him not to stop her from leaving.

'I'll be around,' she promises. Aang watches her turn away, walk towards the door. 'I kinda like it here.'

'You know where I am,' he tries to smile.

Toph doesn't reply. He doesn't know if she's heard him. When she closes the door behind her, Aang exhales slowly, and falls back into his chair.

None of that went accordingly, and kissing her, _her_ kissing _him_ , has only made him feel more at a loss.

* * *

 **Note** : I planned to feature Satoru for a very long while. I find it really amusing that people assume he might be a potential daddy. To be honest, I have never read the comics (and I don't plan to!), so his background is mostly headcanon – apparently he's a runaway as well, but naaaahhh.

Also, yeah, Aang and Toph are finally talking again. Still got a few wounds to nurse, though.

Thank you for reading!


	13. 13

**13.**

* * *

Only twice has Toph cried – both occasions during her childhood.

The first time, she cried over Katara. The second time, she cried over her parents.

These two incidents revolved around guilt. Toph felt guilty about not appreciating Katara, about the fact Katara has been there for her more than her own mother was, and Toph had failed to express that to her. This evolved into guilt regarding her parents; she was guilty of not appreciating them either, to the point of neglect. She was guilty of having been a runaway.

Aang has nearly made her cry on more than one occasion. Aang is very easy to cry about, and it is never to do with guilt. Lately, also, it seems that whatever Aang feels, she endures it twice as bad. As if the two were inextricably connected, their souls intertwined, as if she had known him intimately in many past lives. Aang's grief over losing his people, losing Katara, and now over the fact Toph can't commit to him – it hurts her too, and she can't _fathom_ how he's done this.

For over a fortnight, Toph sticks to her promise, and helps finish the building of Republic City. Most of the work she's assigned to is demanding, heavy, and tends to take a long time. Precision is needed. This work doesn't just consist of throwing rock and earth. This demands design, attention to detail, and patience. She enjoys it, anyway, and, frankly, Toph has always been a lover of action. Being on her feet all day, and doing heavy work, isn't exactly something she'll complain about.

Satoru is happy to let her stay with him – although, they usually talk while working, than when inside. Satoru establishes that Toph isn't all too keen on being inside for very long, and he doesn't ask why. She prefers the outside. Hence why she ends up working longer than everybody else. Toph feels the most comfortable when her feet are on solid earth, not carpet or, God forbid, wood.

'By the way,' he says, 'Aang came by yesterday. He's been looking for you.'

Toph frowns. 'Good to know,' she mutters, and picks up a metal instrument. 'So, where's this one going?'

'Here,' Satoru guides her hand to where the instrument needs to be. Toph positions it correctly, briefly gliding her palm over what they've created together. Satoru refers to it as an _engine_ , and he's not the first to have designed such a thing. 'One day, in the near future, we'll be capable of making more of these. Let's see if this works.'

Toph stays quiet. She listens to him rummage around for a while, something _clicks_ , and then the so-called engine lets out a groan, a _hissing_ noise, and then it roars to life. She hears Satoru laughing, and she grins.

'I guess this is the result you were after.'

'My father would _love_ to see this,' Satoru exclaims. 'Thank you. I didn't know what to expect, but we did it.'

'Now you're talking rubbish: it was all you.'

She can feel his eyes on her, and, once, she might have _really_ felt his gaze. Now, though, it's just a nice distraction from what's been on her mind for the past two weeks. There's a reason why she's tried to avoid Aang. The reason is, she basically doesn't trust herself around him.

'Thanks, Toph,' he replies.

'Sure.'

He hesitates, clears his throat, and Toph partially dreads what's about to be said next.

Turning off the engine, Satoru asks, 'I understand if you're not interested, but I was wondering if we might be able to–?'

'Hello? Excuse me?'

Satoru turns the voice, embarrassed to have been interrupted. The voice belongs to a woman, their age. She has an incredible amount of brown hair, and her clothes represent that of Fire Nation. Satoru smiles at her, 'Hello. Can we help?'

'I'm sorry to disturb you both. I'm looking for the Avatar.'

'What do you want with him?' Satoru queries.

'My apologies, I should probably introduce myself. I'm Rai, and I'm here on request of the Avatar himself. He's needed help on finance for the city and such, so I was keen to lend a hand.'

'You're good with numbers?' Satoru raises a brow.

'That's what my job would imply.'

'Oh, excellent! We certainly need somebody like you around.' Satoru steps towards her, and offers a hand to shake. 'I'm Satoru, and this is Toph.'

Irritated to have been introduced, Toph turns slightly to acknowledge Rai. 'Yeah, hi.'

'Lovely,' Rai says. 'So, do you know where he is? He's not in his office, and I've searched everywhere.'

Toph decides to show a few manners, and offers her input. 'It's possible he isn't present in the city at the moment. Is he expecting you?'

'Yes.'

'Then he should return soon.' Toph shrugs. 'Sorry to break it to you, but he has a habit of vanishing whenever he pleases. You'd best stick around here for now.'

Rai sighs, clearly not very impressed. Toph doesn't blame her, and can't help but feel annoyed at Aang. It's one thing to hire further assistance, and it's another to completely forget about it.

Bloody fool.

'You should come and take a look at what we've accomplished,' Satoru says, placing an arm around Rai's shoulders, and escorting her over.

After inspecting the engine, Rai pulls a face, 'Wow… Um, what is it?' Satoru tells her, before explaining its purpose, and what it could be used for. Rai laughs in amazement. 'That's incredible. You both must have a keen eye.'

'Heh. Not exactly,' Toph mutters.

'Oh… _oh_. Oh, I'm so sorry, I didn't realise.'

'That's fine. You're one of few who don't.'

'Are you an engineer, Toph?'

'No; I'm an Earthbender.' Toph is surprised Rai has never heard of her, but it's also refreshing.

'You know the Avatar, then?'

Toph pauses. Shrugs. 'In some ways.'

'So, are you able to tell us what Aang is struggling with? He must have been in a real tight spot in order to have called for help,' Satoru says.

Rai happily discusses the problem with him. Meanwhile, Toph blocks out their voices, subconsciously trailing her fingertips over the engine again. It's rickety. Not stable yet. Needs more work. Maybe Satoru is right. They could create something magnificent out of this. Or maybe not.

Or maybe Toph isn't interested enough to care, and she can't stop thinking about Aang, and his _stupid_ work ethic, and the fact he's genuinely looking for her, even after they kissed, and it was such a wonderful kiss. It even makes her dizzy _thinking about it_ , and he's just not like anybody she's ever been with before.

Satoru suddenly stops babbling on about his work, because somebody else has arrived.

'I'm _so_ sorry!'

Toph can hear Aang rushing inside. Rai beams at the sight of him. 'There you are! I was wondering if you might have forgotten our meeting.'

'Of course not,' Aang laughs nervously, and Toph notes the fact his pulse his racing. That he's avoided looking at her. That his entire attention is on Rai. 'Thank you for coming along. I suppose Satoru has kept you company.'

'It was a pleasure, by the way,' Satoru smirks.

'Thank you, Satoru. Rai, if you'd like to follow me.' Aang pauses. 'You are welcome to join us as well, if you'd like.' Toph narrows her brows at that. Satoru immediately accepts the invitation, and pats Toph's shoulder, encouraging her to follow as well. 'Satoru is one of my finest workers, so his input will be a benefit to us all.' Rai confesses she's more than happy with the idea.

Aang expects Toph to follow. So, when she doesn't, he looks back at her.

'Toph?'

'I'm knackered. Calling it a day. You have fun, though.'

'Ah, leave her to it, Aang,' Satoru says. 'Come on.'

'Toph, you should come.'

Rai looks between the two, puzzled. Satoru squints his eyes at Aang.

Toph knows why Aang is doing this. He doesn't care if she offers her feedback or not. He just wants her around. He has to have her with him, and they both know what will happen if she agrees.

'I'm calling it a day,' she says sternly.

'Let it go, Aang.'

Toph stiffens, and snaps at Satoru. 'I don't need you to defend me.' She turns in Aang's direction. 'Go. I'll just get bored.'

It might as well be another heartbreak, another rejection. Aang reluctantly nods. 'Okay.' Then swivels around on his heel, and walks out with Rai beside him.

Satoru hesitates, shocked Toph spoke to him so harshly when he only meant well. However, he doesn't bother standing his ground, and leaves Toph alone.

Leaning against the engine, Toph sighs heavily, and refuses to feel the least bit guilty.

 **.**

 **.**

 **.**

When Satoru returns, it's a little past midnight, and Toph is still wide awake.

Shoving off his jacket and shoes, Satoru approaches her. Toph has her back faced to him, and if she weren't blind, one would assume she'd be gazing out of the window. Instead, she's using her seismic senses to detect movement around the building. Other couples and families live within, and her seismic senses make her hearing very acute to the slightest noise or sensation. Each apartment has a story to tell.

'I thought you were calling it a day.'

Toph doesn't reply. She doesn't acknowledge him at all.

'Look, I'm sorry if I was out of line back then. I don't know what's going on between you and Aang, and it's honestly none of my business. I'm just worried, I suppose. I like you. I really like you. I guess I overstepped the mark, huh?'

Toph realises he's talking to her. 'What?'

'Nothing, never mind. Just ignore me.'

Finally she responds. Toph turns, reaches up onto her tiptoes, and kisses Satoru's mouth.

She doesn't know what to expect, but she thinks it's necessary to at least _try_. Perhaps Satoru thinks she's kissing him because she just feels like doing it. Maybe he thinks she likes him back. Maybe he doesn't think anything of it, and Toph wishes she cared enough to find out.

It's obvious he has done this before. At once, Satoru kisses her in return, and it's great – that's the only word she can think up. He kisses her with just the right amount of tongue, and he's careful as to where he places his hands, particularly focussing on the curve of her waist. He's safe, polite and he's modest.

But that's all.

He isn't frantic and urgent and vulnerable. Their kisses aren't clumsy, their hands aren't reaching and pulling and tugging, and Satoru is calm.

This is why Toph kisses him.

Because, like she predicted, he's nothing like Aang.

Satoru is nice, but he isn't electric. He isn't fire, pressed into her skin, and making it hard to breathe. He isn't tender, trembling just at the sensation of being close to her. He doesn't fall apart, and he doesn't beg, doesn't cling onto her for dear life. Satoru is capable of loving Toph well, but he's just–

 _not_. Satoru has not been through what Toph went through. He can't ever understand her the way Aang does. He can try to, but he's too late. Aang was there from the very beginning, and if it weren't for Toph's stubbornness and Aang's terror of being abandoned, then maybe, just maybe, they would work.

Aang would not kiss her like this.

Aang would not touch her like this.

Aang can't kiss her so perfectly, because he's _damaged_. He has been torn apart, thrown around, and the poor boy is broken. And all he has to hold him up, to keep moving forward is _her_. Because she _gets_ him. She was there when he was his most vulnerable, she was there when he defeated the Fire Lord; he sought her, begged of her to train him, to teach him. He made her valid.

So she retreats, startling Satoru.

'Is everything okay?' He whispers.

'Mhmm,' Toph takes his hands on her waist, and gently pushes them away. Satoru does, confused. 'Uh, sorry. That wasn't very fair on you.'

'What do you mean?'

She decides not to hurt him by admitting the truth. 'I'm pretty tired.'

'Oh. Right. I'll leave you to it, then.' He hovers, desperate for answers, and she feels sorry for him, but Toph has never been the comforting type. 'You sure you're all right?'

'Yeah.' Pauses. 'You?'

He nods, and she knows he's lying.

'Good night,' and he departs to his room.

 **.**

 **.**

 **.**

The following morning, she discovers Aang in his office, and she has no idea what she's going to say. She snuck out of Satoru's apartment, not wanting to see him, and after kissing the poor man, Toph just feels _guilty_. And it isn't like her to feel this way, especially to somebody she's only known a fortnight.

But upon arrival, Toph is stunned she's not his first visitor.

'Oh,' Rai says. 'Good morning.'

'Toph,' Aang smiles. 'You might want to knock next time?'

'Why? Was I interrupting something?' Toph is pleased her voice came out calm, even though her heart is pounding wildly. What she really wants to ask is _what the_ _ **fuck**_ _? Has_ she interrupted something?

Somebody moves. Rai. 'No, no! I should probably leave.'

'Have you been here all night?'

Toph doesn't know why she asks. Why she's willing to risk the truth. Rai doesn't answer straightaway, but it's all the answer Toph needs. And what she feels next is so _powerful_ , it's enough to make her want to _shatter_ the ground beneath her, and let both Aang and Rai fall into the fiery depths of the earth's core.

But she restrains herself.

'I offered Rai a place to stay. She had travelled for a long time, so it was the least I could do.'

Toph swallows, conscious of the fact she's shaking. 'How generous.'

'Aang, I should leave. Let me come by tomorrow so we can finish where we left off, okay?'

'Okay,' Aang sounds reluctant. 'See you soon.'

There's a brief moment shared, and then Toph hears Rai approaching the doorway. As she passes, Toph can smell the faint scent of perfume. Then she's gone, and all that's left is Aang, Toph, and the next round of anger.

Aang folds his arms. 'Did you need something?'

'You've been looking for me, apparently. That's what Satoru said.'

'That's right. I _was_ looking for you.'

'Aang–'

'I don't think this is a good idea.' Toph goes numb. It's as if all her senses shut down completely, and she's unable to speak, think, feel, or move. And when Aang continues speaking, his voice cracks partway, 'We've caused each other another pain, I think. I can tell you and Satoru get along, and if you decide to pursue anything with him, then I'm happy for you.'

None of what he's saying makes sense.

Toph still hasn't reacted. Aang steps closer, softens his voice.

'We've established you don't want to settle down with me. I was fortunate to meet Rai yesterday. She seems like a nice person. Don't you think? We got to know each other a little, and, I don't know, I've got a good feeling about this.'

He is right. Everything that Aang is saying is true. It makes sense and, in a way, she's relieved he's finally figured it out. And because he does care so much about Toph, he won't force her into a situation which makes her uncomfortable. He's letting her go. He's turned his heart to another woman. A woman who can support him, who can give him children, and make him happy and–

'What?'

That's just about all Toph can manage.

Because if she says anymore, she'll burst into tears, and bursting into tears isn't what she does. Not for anyone. Not for Aang.

He can't _break_ her.

Aang realises the amount of damage he's made, though.

'I don't know what to do, anymore. I'm only doing what I think is right.'

'That's it, then? We're through?'

'Was there ever anything to be through with, Toph?' He's closer now, close enough for her to hurt him. To smack him, knock him out cold, but she's got no fight in her. She's been hurt too much. 'I'm sorry. I am. You've given me so much, and – what we've struggled with together, I'm so happy it was with you.'

'Oh.'

'I want us to be friends. I don't want to lose you completely.'

'Okay. So, you just want, what, forty percent of me instead?'

'I–I…'

'You can either have all of me, or do without.'

'Do you not think I want all of you?'

'I don't know what to think anymore.'

Aang surrenders.

He gives up, lets down his defences, and whispers: 'I _love_ you.'

'Don't say that.'

'I have to. You needed to know.' He shakes his head, not sure what to say now. Not sure what this means. 'I love you so much, and it's _killing_ me. I've accepted that you won't ever feel the same way, so – fuck, _please_ give me some mercy, and walk away.'

'But–'

 _I love you too. I love you, I've always loved you, and I can't say it, because I'm too late._

Toph inhales shakily. Her stomach has twisted into a million knots, and her throat has closed up, and it really, really aches. Her whole body has reacted. A hundred knives, slicing open her skin, her insides clawed away; she's flooding the earth with blood, and Aang is watching it all spill.

People really know how to romanticise heartbreak. But Toph doesn't grasp why. Heartbreak is what it is. There's nothing else to add. It hurts. Because your heart, this tiny, precious organ does split in two. It does bleed. It does wail out. And the agony is so tremendous, it makes her want to keel over.

'I kissed him,' Toph admits, voice uneasy. Aang widens his eyes. 'I didn't–it wasn't right.'

'… That's… Really?'

'I wanted it to feel right.'

'Why didn't it?'

'Because. Because it didn't.'

They fall silent.

Toph has to ask, she has to know. 'What about her?'

'Yeah,' Aang confirms. 'It felt nice. With her, it is nice.'

'That's–' she breathes in, '–great.'

Aang isn't lying. In this moment, he is being so brutally honest with her, and she knows she deserves it.

She knows he deserves better. Far better. He deserves somebody who will be honest back, who will love him unconditionally, who will help bring about more Airbenders, aid Aang in training them. Who will be perfect in every single way, who is loyal to him, who can give him a proper, kind life.

'I should go.'

'Toph?'

'The city should be finished soon.'

'I know. Thank you. I seriously am in your debt.'

'No kidding,' she teases, but it comes out flat. 'You've owed me for a while, Aang.'

'You're a good friend.' Aang embraces her, and she's puzzled. He holds her for just a minute too long, and she can't help but fall into him slightly. 'Thank you,' he repeats. 'I hope you plan on staying, but, if not, do tell me.' Aang pulls back a little, 'You think you can do that for me?'

She nods, feeling lightheaded. 'I should go.'

'Okay.'

They miss each other – just. His lips mark the corner of her mouth, and then her cheek, her jawline, and his breath leaves a hot trail across her skin. Toph's hands are holding his face and she sighs at the sensation of him. Pushes herself up into his arms, shuddering against each other.

No. No, they can't, and they know they can't.

But he's already kissing her. And it's far too late by then.

Like before, they're soft, tender; his kisses are ghostly, delicate on her lips. His fingers untie the band holding her hair, and she tenses as he runs his fingers through. A thought, right in the very confines of his mind, is telling him to let her go. This shouldn't be happening; they were so close, but he can't stop.

Aang wants to feel her in every way possible, and he knows this will be different. She isn't aggressive with him. It's almost disturbing how Toph is taking her time, taking him in slowly; she barely reflects her usual sharp demeanour. Now, she's almost demure. Almost submissive to him, and it sends a chill up his spine.

They kiss for a long time. Then he carefully tears away her clothes, and she helps him out of his own. His body, soft and heavy, she runs her palms down his chest, up his back. Feels his shoulder blades, and then she wraps her arms around the back of his neck, tilting her head to deepen the kiss. The sensation of her naked breasts against his chest, her kisses wet and cool, dragging her fingers over his stubbled cheeks – oh, he'll go _mad_.

'I love you,' he repeats, silencing any panic with further kisses.

Suddenly she has her back to the desk, and he helps lift her on top. Toph struggles for a second. She's lost her seismic senses, she's completely blind, and all she's aware of is Aang. But she can trust him. He knows the vulnerable position she is in now, and he wouldn't _dare_ abuse that.

He scatters kisses down her neck, resting a hand onto the small of her back, and encouraging her to lean back slightly. When his lips and tongue graze over her breast, Toph stiffens, clenching her jaw. A mixture of pleasure and a little pain washes over her, and he sucks gently, his hand massaging her other breast. Toph is silent. But her breaths come out heavy, in short gasps.

Aang enjoys teasing her for several minutes, and this is what he's wanted ever since she left him at the Eastern Temple. He wants her to feel this, wants her to _love_ this, wants her to love _him_ , wants her to know just how much she matters to him.

Returning to kissing her mouth, his palm smoothes down her thigh, and she welcomes his intrusion. Ever so lightly, his fingers stroke her entrance. She's not quite ready yet, and that's okay. He doesn't want anything rushed. Toph bucks slightly when his fingers catch her clit, and she moans into his kisses as he starts to rub. He starts to move his finger in a circular motion, which seems to work. Toph kisses him hard, an attempt to silence herself, but he can already tell she doesn't require much encouragement.

'I love you,' he murmurs against her lips.

'Aang, you're a broken record with that one.'

He grins at her remark.

At the fact she's breathless, and can barely get the words out.

But: 'What does this mean?'

Toph doesn't like that question. And she needs him to keep going. 'I don't know.' He looks at her, panicked, not panicked, just amazed that they're doing this and neither know what to do. 'I want you. Come closer.'

Oh, God, he nearly falls apart then and there.

Aang is already hard, and she strokes him briefly. He hisses between his teeth, scrunching his eyes shut. 'Toph. _Ah_ , that feels–' he has to grasp her wrist, stop her, because if she really wants him, she has to give him a chance. He kisses her hungrily, hands on her hips, pulling her nearer.

Then he slides into her slowly. Toph clings onto him, kisses his collarbone, his neck, and he leans down to press his lips to hers.

Aang is heavier than she remembered. As he leans into her, his length effortlessly gliding out, before going in again, she feels him settle against her. His hips, chest, shoulders, all of his warm skin. His pulse radiates through her. He groans into their kisses, and he's the most open and fragile he's ever been with another soul. The friction of being inside her, their kisses, how she feels, smells, and how she sounds, and how her fingers trace up his spine, as she meets him with each thrust, he exclaims.

It's an incredible amount to endure, and he can barely _just_ endure it all.

'Toph,' he breathes.

She falls back a little more, and he presses into her harder. Toph holds onto him tightly, hooking her ankle over his hip. She reaches for where his length moves in and out of her, travelling her palm up his abdomen, his torso. Kissing him grows sore, she can feel his knees buckling at the intensity, how he's wrapped his arm around her body, drawing her into him as close as possible, the sound of wet skin touching, the sweet noises he makes as they kiss each other over and over.

They are drowning in the hot building of friction, and as he draws nearer to his climax, he goes faster, raising himself to ease into her better. She studies him, her fingertips wonderfully caressing his wounded face. And she can recall so vividly the way he looked in her dream – that sweet, darling face, and those _eyes_ which just tore into her heart. He moans her name and she clutches onto him, finding it impossible to stay quiet.

'Aang! _Fuck_.' She's taken by a head-to-toe shiver, gasping out, 'I–you're–' and when she comes, he very quickly follows. He continues to move inside her, together, helplessly, desperately. He presses his lips together, scrunches his eyes shut, groaning as he spills inside her. Then they kiss clumsily as he weakly thrusts into her, coaxing out their orgasm, their hands gripping and sliding over slippery skin.

Barely able to think, Toph's body quivers around his length, fluttering, so many tiny contractions, she already throbs for him again. Aang practically collapses onto her, catching his breath, his chest rising and falling with hers. They meet in another kiss, tender, calmer, and he cuddles her close to him.

Nowhere, nowhere could there be a greater intimacy than this. Having Aang's arms around her, his body shielding her own, him inside her, _together_. She won't dare imagine what this means, what she's confessed to, but all she's conscious of is that – she doesn't regret him, not in any way.

The third time she cries, she's twenty-three years old, and it isn't about guilt.

She'll blame the fact she's overwhelmed or that it's Aang's fault. But she hurriedly wipes her eyes, hoping he might not notice.

With him, like this, she's happy. She's so happy, it's enough to sacrifice her own independence for him – just the right amount.

For him, for Aang, she can try.

'Don't cry,' he says, kind of helpless, kind of childish. 'Is it–have I–?'

' _Yes_ ,' and she reaches up to kiss him quiet.

* * *

 **Note** : As a writer, I really disagree when people say the writer reflects their life in their work.

I've let myself down. There are several elements in this chapter which are personal, and this story has become very special to me.

Toph and Aang genuinely surprised me. This chapter wrote itself, and... I'm really pleased and shocked by the fact they just threw everything aside and chose each other.

Shit, _finally_.


	14. 14

**14.**

* * *

When she tells him, he looks at her, his eyes pleading over the fact that _this is all my fault_. His face is still vivid in her mind – she can just about picture Aang's expression right now.

So, Toph informs him about Koh, about their discussion, about the faces she was forced to see, and she listens to him. Aang doesn't move. His pulse is steady. His breaths, cutting short every few seconds. Eyes wide, and ripped with a mixture of guilt and understanding.

It shouldn't have to necessarily matter. Whatever was, was. Maybe they did know each other in a prior life, maybe they've known each other for centuries, and bits and pieces of their souls have somehow brought them together again. Aang has a feeling this won't be the last time either. If a connection is truly that fierce with another person, then it can survive lifetimes.

Aang says, 'The same thing has happened to me. They haven't been as transparent as yours, but I, too, have had visions.' He tries to smile; isn't so sure if he succeeds. 'It's scary, isn't it?'

'Little bit,' she admits. She lies. Aang sees right through her. Those dreams are scary, Koh is terrifying, and the fact neither she or Aang can wriggle their way out of these night terrors makes her feel nauseous. 'Since being here, though, they've kinda stopped.'

'Oh?' Aang fits the pieces together, so she doesn't have to. 'I like to think that when we're around each other, we're safe.' The night terrors can't grab them; nothing can drag them down into the Spirit World. They were _supposed_ to find each other, to protect each other, to finally meet in a lifetime in which they _could_ be together.

Toph pulls a face. This conversation is becoming too intimate. She knows Aang is a huge believer in fate, that some lives are tied; he believes in destiny, that the soul is what makes them who they are. He believes in all of these metaphysical wonders, and as much as she's willing to take it on board, Toph would rather depend on what she can touch and feel.

Thinking beyond that has only led her into trouble.

'What does that mean, then?' Aang asks. 'Are you going to stay here?'

'Not like I have a choice.' She shrugs, folding her arms. 'Besides, I built most of this place. Might as well enjoy it.'

'The position is still available.'

'Yeah, I know.' Toph hasn't actually met any military police in Republic City, if it actually exists yet.

She hasn't forgotten about the rank of Chief, and considering the Avatar has jumped through multiple hoops in order to convince her to take the job, Toph can't say no, can she?

Ah. Who's she kidding? She wants that opportunity. Not only would she be brilliant at it, it would open doors to further possibilities as well.

She didn't invent Metalbending just so only _she_ could use it.

'I'm–' Aang steps over, '–really happy you came back.'

The sensation of his fingertips, brushing delicately across her cheek, sends a shock through her body. She wonders if there will be a time when he won't have this effect on her anymore. Whether she'll grow accustomed to his affectionate nature. Whether she never will. Whether they will actually work, together, as a couple.

The word _couple_ makes her panic slightly. Toph thinks she should probably not consider that yet.

'Me too,' she allows.

It's been over three hours now since she arrived at his office. Midday is approaching, and Aang will be expecting people to arrive soon. Meetings and other tedious work. Toph was fully dressed quite some time ago now, however Aang is quite happy to parade his bare chest.

 _Show off_ , she thinks, smirking.

Although he does feel especially _good_ when he cuddles her. His warmth radiates through her clothes, and she'll never grow tired of how loud, but soothing his heartbeat is – _thump, thumping_ alongside her own. Aang kisses her jawline, a hand pressed to her waist.

'Come back here later?'

Toph smiles crookedly. What surprises her is that he needn't ask – she _wants_ to come back later. She manages to escape his embrace, and as she leaves the office, she can feel his eyes on her – and it's calm, tranquil even. There isn't any demand or confusion behind it.

It just is.

For the first time in her life, she actually feels – _free_.

It's something she would never tell Aang. The very precise things he makes her think and feel. After all, that's for him to find out. And when it comes to deciphering Toph Beifong, Aang is a master.

 **.**

 **.**

 **.**

'Thought you had forgotten.'

Aang grins. 'Forget _you_? As if you'd allow that.'

'Gotta say, pal.' Sokka wraps an arm around his shoulders. 'You did a fucking great job. _Look_.'

Aang does. He looks. _They_ look.

Republic City is all for him.

It's larger than he assumed. Much more vast, so colourful, and Aang is astonished by the amount of buildings and _people_. The homes, gardens; the water, and rivers. He can already imagine what this city would be like in the next decade. Bigger, stronger, diverse – this is _the_ haven where all the elements can come together, be at peace.

But it is not Aang's home.

The Avatar has fought, destroyed, and now the Avatar has created. What's next for him?

He twitches a smile, lowers his gaze, _knowing_.

'You should bring Suki along.'

'I will,' Sokka replies. Glances at him. 'I can tell some of this is Toph's handy-work.' He gestures specifically to the bridge.

'Heh.'

'Did she tell you she visited me before coming here?'

'Yeah.' Aang raises a brow. 'Thanks. Whatever you said to her, it was helpful.'

Sokka squints at him. 'You know,' he sniggers, 'You two are kinda cute.'

'We are, aren't we?'

'It's insane.'

'Hm?' Aang's expression falls. 'What's wrong?'

'Nothing. Just – you could have _children_ with her.' Immediately, Aang tenses. Both he and Sokka know this thought, this need to continue the line of Airbenders, has been on Aang's mind for a long time.

Of course, it was always going to be Katara. Katara was his dream girl. And that's what she was for him, initially. A dream. The distraction from the war. Then, after the war–

After the war, they grew up. Went their separate ways. Aang couldn't live in a dream. He had to face reality, head on. He had to fix the damage, had to restore peace one way or another. The things he wanted, a family, would have to wait.

Katara was never meant to raise Airbenders. She and Aang remain close, but they're so far apart on _what's important to them_. Really, Aang doesn't know why he still considers her in the first place – for a while, now, he's accepted the fact they can't be.

For a while, now, he's loved somebody else. Somebody who is far from a dream, somebody who is devastatingly flawed, and who makes Aang feel like the safest man in the world.

She keeps him in line, keeps him balanced, challenges him in ways he never thought possible.

And, most importantly, she makes him _happy_.

Up until recently, Aang never realised just how _vital_ that was.

 **.**

 **.**

 **.**

It is afterwards, when he's taken her home – _his_ temporary home – and he's so certain that this is probably one of the best decisions he's made in his life. Aang feels certain, because she _did_ come back to him, she returned to his office to see him, just like she said she would. And a part of him is aware of the fact this is all new to her, and, eventually, she'll struggle with _commitment_ and _being with him always_ , but–

They both have their problems to deal with. Aang clings onto the past too much, uses it against himself, whereas Toph runs away from it all. This, whatever this is, which she now has with Aang is something else she can very easily flee from. Commitment implies a trap. A cage, in which she can only do so much, because stepping one foot out of line might be _it_. Perhaps Aang has limits, perhaps he doesn't, perhaps he's suffocating, or perhaps he's wonderful, or maybe he's just _Aang_.

But she'll try. They will try. Trying is what they're good at.

So, when they're finally alone, he kisses her, whispers how much he's been wanting to be with her _all day_. Then his back is pressed into the mattress, they're tangled up in each other, and Aang is surprised this is the first time they've been properly _together_. Every time they've had sex, it's either been on the floor, or a desk, or against a wall, but never a bed.

It startles them both just how _normal_ this feel.

She rides him, grips him tight, and he buries his face in her shoulder. When he parts his lips to breathe, he leans up to kiss her, and there's this faint, sweet smile as he does so. He kisses her, smiling, and as she dances her hands and fingertips across his delicate body, his broken skin, healing bones, and heat, it's clear that this is love.

One more push, one more look at her, and he's undone.

 **.**

 **.**

 **.**

'Toph?' Just to be sure she's awake, he tightens his embrace, his breath like feathers against her ear. He kisses her cheek, not wanting her to think anything is wrong. 'Wake up.'

When she stirs, Toph lets out a soft, muffled sound, and that's all the indication he's going to get.

'I need to ask.'

'Hm?' Toph yawns. 'Wha…? 's just people movin' around upstairs.'

Aang laughs breathily. It's incredibly sweet she thinks he's worried about the footsteps in the room above them.

'I know that,' he says. 'We should get married.'

It was as if he hadn't spoken at all. Toph doesn't move, doesn't say anything; in fact, Aang isn't sure if she's stopped breathing altogether.

Then: 'Okay,' Toph frowns, 'This is a _really_ weird dream.'

Aang leans on his elbow, raising himself to look at her properly. Now that he's disturbed their position, Toph groans in displeasure, and Aang has no choice but to continue.

'I'm serious. Not a dream.' He says. 'Obviously, I'll give you time to think about it, but – it would be a good idea.'

Toph grabs the pillow and throws it at him. 'You mean, a _crazy_ idea! Damn it, Aang, at _this_ hour?'

'Sorry,' Aang murmurs, holding the pillow close. 'Just – it's been on my mind a lot.'

To be honest, marriage has never occurred to Toph. Not once. It's not as if she hasn't been interested in it, she's just never given it the time of day. Now that Aang has introduced her to such an unfathomable idea, her gut reaction is to reject such an atrocity immediately.

But then she wonders, what difference would it make?

She _wants_ to commit to him. Aang has chosen a very poor moment to suggest where they take this, but she has to give him credit for putting it out there. One of them has to.

Anyway, she's too tired to discuss the possibility in depth right now.

'Aang?'

'Mm?'

'You do realise it's just a piece of paper, right?'

'I know.'

But it's important to him. It matters to him, and she can take that.

Rolling onto her side, she presses herself up close to him, and he wraps his arms around her, and she thinks, every night, like this one – she wouldn't mind. She wouldn't mind at all. Wouldn't mind so much, that she might actually love it.

A little while later, when all she can hear is the steady pace of his breathing, and there's just the quiet, and him to focus on, she nudges him awake.

Perhaps this is just her getting her own back. Perhaps this is her really starting to try.

'Yeah, what's wr–?'

'I love you too, Twinkletoes.'

Eyes still closed, Aang beams ear-to-ear, and cuddles her tighter.

'I had a feeling you might.'

For what it's worth, he's now more certain than ever that he can wait a little while longer.

* * *

end.

* * *

 **Note** : Every time I write a love story involving Toph, it's been close to impossible to write a happy ending – she's such a loose canon and so suspicious of _love_ , and she's stubborn on top of that. But after fourteen chapters, I'm really happy they both got to this point. I'm already considering a sequel. Now that these two are committed to each other, there's a whole load of other stuff afterwards, so if I find the time (I'm sure I will) and the kick, I'll definitely post a sequel in the near future.

This story means a lot to me.  
Aang and Toph are lovely to write about and, holy shit, they're emotional!

I thank all of you who have read this story and stuck by me. It's been a pleasure.

Please leave feedback. Tell me things.

Until next time!

P.S. If you want to follow my Tumblr, then my url is bringherhome.


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